To Be Broken
by liftedlorax
Summary: Logan thinks it’s over, but it’s only just getting started, because Veronica will find out what’s going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back. COMPLETE.
1. Part One

**Title:** To Be Broken  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Logan/Veronica  
**Word Count:** 2, 815  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because Veronica _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** All aired episodes, to be safe, though nothing explicit. It's set in March of their second year at Hearst, so it's a slight future fic. New season 3 characters are pretty much non-entities in this, so don't worry about being spoiled about them. And…there's bad language. And quite possibly sex and violence in later parts.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. Please don't sue me.

**A/N:** This is my first ever Veronica Mars fic. I know I'm pretty bold to be posting a WIP first, but…yeah, I can't get this one out of my head, and it'd be impossible to fit this whole thing in a one-shot, so… Let me know what you guys think, okay? Seriously, even if you think this thing is hideously atrocious and an embarrassment to the VM fandom, let me know so I can stab my eyes out. kplzthnx.

**Part One**

The next time she opens her mouth to speak, he brings a hand to his lips and shushes her and that kinda pisses her off. In a good way, of course.

"Logan," she says lowly, her voice edged with warning but laid with enough playfulness that the tone is still light. He always treads so carefully now, gets nervous at the first sign of trouble—and that breaks her heart, that she's made him this way. Veronica likes to make up for it with soft words, gentle kisses and whispered reassurances, but it's still always there. She would laugh about the role reversal if it wasn't so sad—a few months ago, she could barely trust him. Now, Logan doesn't really trust her. At least, not like he used to.

"Logan, come on." He shakes his head, eyes riveted to the screen, and she sighs impatiently. Veronica shifts in her position perched on his lap, and eyes the movie they're watching on his sofa contemptuously. Then, she turns back to her boyfriend and makes her face turn serious. "Logan, we need to talk."

That gets his attention quickly, and Logan quickly pauses _Soylent Green _and meets her eyes. She hates the tiny flicker of fear she sees in those eyes, and she kisses him quickly to try and reassure him. Veronica feels him chuckle lightly against her mouth, but she also feels the slight tension leave him, and she can't help but feel relieved. Before she can get too addicted to the taste and feel of his mouth on hers, she pulls away. He looks disappointed, but his eyes still twinkle down at her.

"Is that all you wanted, dear? Because we didn't have to pause the movie for _that._"

Glaring at his trademark smirk, Veronica punches him lightly on the shoulder and he chuckles again. "No, that is not all I wanted. I want to talk to you about something."

Bringing her hand up to his mouth and kissing her knuckles softly, he nods, encouraging her to go on. Veronica concentrates on the feel of his mouth on her skin for a second, fighting back a contented sigh, before bracing herself to talk. "Okay, so—remember how you gave me your new key last week?"

Logan nods again, rubbing his thumb over the inside of her palm. "Uh-huh."

"Well, I was thinking. What if I started using it more?"

He obviously doesn't get it; Veronica sighs inwardly as she realizes that the hours he'd spent the previous summer playing video games in his new little house with Dick have taken a toll on her boy's beloved quick wit. Logan blinks down at her for a few seconds, then quirks his eyebrow. "Huh? You mean like, coming over more often? Cause I gotta say, I don't have any objections to that. And I don't see why you had to pause the movie for it—it's kind of a no-brainer, V."

Veronica rolls her eyes and refrains from huffing at him. "No, stupid. That's not what I meant."

He blinks at her again, then looks faux-hurt. "Stupid? _Moi? _Surely, you jest. I mean, last I checked, I _was _acing my Psych class—"

"I want to move in with you, you jackass!" She blurts it out mostly to shut him up, and her heart grows three sizes when she sees the happiness spread over his face. He stares at her, like he really can't believe it, and she nods once, and that's all he needs, apparently, because then he's pressing swift, warm kisses to her neck, and she's giggling uncontrollably as she finds herself underneath him suddenly.

"Logan!" Veronica manages through her laughter as he continues his assault on her neck. "Calm down, you dope."

"Absolutely not," he murmurs against her skin, and she shivers happily. "You, Veronica Mars, want to move in with me. I don't think calming down is in order. Ravishing you? Maybe."

Veronica laughs again, fitting her arms around his neck and looking up at him. "I won't object to that." Logan leans down to kiss her hungrily, and she reciprocates without hesitation. She parts her mouth and feels his tongue sweep over her lips and oh God, this has to be what heaven is. They break apart for air, and she looks up at him and speaks quickly before he can swoop back in and steal the words away. "I—I don't want to do it right now. Moving in, I mean. I think we should try it after the semester's over—it'll give my dad some time to get used to the idea, you know?"

And just like that, Logan looks unsure. He sits up slightly, his back suddenly stiff against the back of the sofa, and she sees that fear flicker in his eyes again, and damn her for doing this to him. "Wait, I mean—are you sure? I get the waiting thing, but—do you think you'll change your mind by then?"

She grabs his hand between hers and squeezes slightly. "I won't change my mind, Logan. I promise. I really want this."

And she does; she really, really does. Things are going so well for them—have been, really, for almost two years now. They are nearly done with their second year of college together, and, not including an awful two-week break-up the July prior to this winter, things have been better than okay. And the two-week break-up, the one they never really talk about? It was necessary, and completely beneficiary. It forced Veronica to get her ass into gear and realize what she had and how important it was. She looks back on those two weeks in the summer, and remembers how worried she'd been that this time, it was over—Logan wasn't going to come back to her. He'd taken off for L.A. with Dick, and spent all of his time in a drunken haze that he didn't even remember. And the thing was, that didn't make Veronica angry. She hadn't even worried about what he might be doing up there, or who he might be doing it with. She'd only worried that she had messed things up too much, and that it was too late to fix them.

And of course, she remembers the reunion; remembers finding him in the parking lot of the Neptune Grand with Dick, loading boxes into his truck; remembers the panic she felt when she thought that he was, in fact, leaving her for good. And then she remembers the amazing, warm feeling spreading inside of her when he told her he had bought a little house near the beach, twenty minutes away from Hearst. She remembers how she threw her arms around him, how he stiffened under her touch until she finally, finally whispered three little words that made such a huge difference and meant everything to the both of them.

It took Logan a little while to say it back, but she didn't mind. She knew it, even if he didn't say it. And Veronica knew that it was his way of protecting his heart from her, knowing she hadn't always been so careful with it in the past.

Now he looks at her, eyes liquid and solemn, and she can't help but melt a little under his gaze. "You're sure?" Veronica knows what he's saying—don't say this if you don't mean it. Don't give me false hope. She nods slowly, then kisses him again, slow and deep and gentle.

When they pull back, she grins up at him. "I mean, have you seen this house? It's amazing; I cannot _wait _to start making it more Veronica."

Logan laughs, and she likes how that feels coming from his chest. "You've already picked out half the furniture in here; how much more Veronica can you get?"

Veronica gives him a pointed look, and he laughs again and kisses her forehead. "Okay, yeah, don't answer that."

When his mouth descends on her neck again, and with the steady weight of him above her and his warm hands sneaking up her shirt, she can't help but breathe it out. "God, I love you." Veronica's heart swells at the sight of the grin that lights up his face when he hears it. No matter how many times she says it, he still gets so happy every time. She feels her heart ache a little bit when she thinks of how little times people have said that and meant it to Logan.

And her heart swells again when she realizes she's contemplating making up for it for the rest of her life.

* * *

Veronica isn't consciously aware of waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the first time in years, she's just happy, and she's not afraid of the happiness ending. So of course, when it does, a little over a week after that night at Logan's house, it just hurts that much more.

From the second she spots him on the bench in the quad waiting for her, head bent, fingers drumming against his knees, she knows that something's wrong. She gets really worried when he stands up quickly upon spotting her, and she sees his eyes. They are like brown pools, swimming circles of guilt and dread and anguish, and they scare her. Something is very, very wrong, and she knows she's about to find out exactly what.

"Hey," she says casually, ignoring the slight tremor in her voice, because she wouldn't be Veronica Mars if she didn't avoid impending doom like a plague. "What's up?"

"I—" His voice cracks on that one syllable, and she feels her breath catch in her chest. "I need to talk to you." Logan's fighting to keep his voice steady, and she feels an urge to comfort him, take care of him. Veronica reaches a hand out to touch his arm, and when he flinches and pulls away, she realizes just how bad this is.

"Logan, what's wrong?" No more playing around now; something's up, and she'll be damned if she doesn't find out what it is and fix it for him, as soon as possible.

"I—I just—" He can't say it, can't spit whatever it is out, and he sits down on the bench abruptly. Around them, dusk is falling, and an early March breeze drifts through the campus, but nothing really registers except for Logan and his sad, sad eyes as she follows him down to the bench.

"Logan, it's okay, you can tell me." Veronica's trying to read him. She knows he's guilty about something, and more than a little afraid. He's also anxious and completely on edge, and totally dreading whatever it is he thinks he has to do next.

"It's just—" Logan stops again, takes in one, huge breath, and then looks her in the eye and rips the proverbial band-aid off. "I can't see you anymore."

Okay. She was _not _expecting that one. "What?" Veronica hopes she doesn't sound as shocked as she is, but even she can hear her own shaky voice and knows she's kidding herself.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, Ronnie, I just—I can't, okay? I can't, and it's killing me, but—" Logan freezes, as though he's said too much, then backtracks a little. "I'm really, really sorry."

His hands are shaking. She realizes this when she reaches out to grab them and he pulls away quickly. She feels hurt stab at her, but concern—and damn him, _he's_ breaking up with _her_, she shouldn't be fucking worried about _him_—overpowers the hurt. Her eyes are wide, and his are filled with tears as he studies her.

"Can you—can you just say something, please? Just—just yell at me or tell me what a bastard I am or—or something?" Logan swallows, hard, and looks away for a minute, before turning back to her. "Please?"

It's that last 'please' that does it; Veronica finds her voice, and wishes it were stronger. "Logan, what's going on?"

"What?" His eyes dart away from her, breaking contact, and that's how she knows he's going to start lying to her. "I—I don't—V, I can't be with you anymore, that's what's—"

"No," she says, reaching out slowly again. He moves out of her reach, and this time, there is no hurt. Logan doesn't want to do this. Logan thinks he needs to do this, for whatever reason. "That's not—that's not acceptable, Logan. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing—nothing's going on with me, Veronica. I just can't, okay? I can't—"

"No!" She doesn't know how her voice got louder; she didn't do it on purpose. He recoils and then braces himself, ready for an attack, almost willing one. Her heart crumbles just a little bit at the pain in his eyes. "No, that's not—you're not giving me a reason, here. You can't just—can't just end things out of the blue without a reason. Tell me what's going on."

"I can't!" Logan's voice is louder now, too, and slightly strangled as he jumps up from the bench.

"Logan, whatever it is, I won't be mad, I can help—"

"No," he says, and she can hear the desperation in his voice, and can see it in his eyes now. "No, you can't help. You need to stay away."

Ah. "You—you don't have to protect me, okay? I _can_ help—you can't just—just shut me out because you think I could get hurt—"

He backtracks again, realizing she's caught on to his line of thinking. "It's nothing, okay? Nothing's going on, I just need—need some time to work things out, okay? Just let me—"

"Uh, bullshit." Ah, anger, her old friend. There it is. Veronica tries to keep it at bay, knowing that that's what Logan wants—he wants her to be angry with him, to punish him. She doesn't want to do that—not until he gives her a reason. "Just _tell me_."

Logan looks her straight in the eye now, and she's surprised at the resolve she sees there—he's really doing this. He's making this final, because he thinks he has to. She's failing to get to him, and she's running out of time, she can see that. "No."

Of all the words he's said so far, this one stings the most. He's so sure, so resigned, that she feels her own confidence start to wane. She feels her eyes well up and though she struggles to stay strong, stay steely and cool, she fails utterly. "Is it—is it me, Logan? Did I do something? Why can't you just tell me?" Veronica fucking hates how weak and small her voice is; she squeezes her eyes shut, so she feels rather than sees Logan sink down on the bench beside her.

"God, no, Veronica, no, it's not you. You didn't do anything." When Veronica opens her eyes, she sees tears streaming down his face, and he's shaking more than ever and she just wants to hold him, and God, isn't that just fucking ridiculous?

"Then why can't you just—just tell me and let me help you?"

"Because I can't," he says, and then rethinks it after a shaky breath. "And because there's nothing to tell."

"Logan—"

"I love you, Veronica, God, I hope you know that. I don't—I don't want to do this, but I have to."

"No, you don't!" Veronica bursts out, and she doesn't bother trying to hide the hysteria in her voice. "You don't have to do anything except talk to me and tell me what's wrong!"

"I have to," he repeats, and he sounds so, so sad and she's angry at that. "I'm sorry."

She's shaking her head, her jaw set, and when he gets up to leave she tries once more to reason with him. "Don't," she says, and this sounds strong; this sounds sure. "Please don't do this."

Logan doesn't say anything, just looks down at her again and squeezes his eyes shut to stop the tears. Then he jams his hands into his pockets, whispers one last, miserable, "I'm sorry," and walks away.

Veronica sits there for a few more minutes, alone on that bench at twilight, trying to get her bearings. She stares after him, willing herself to be angry—but all she feels is determined, which she supposes is the next best thing. Getting to her feet, she swings her bag over her shoulder, puts her game-face on and makes her promises. Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because she _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back. Veronica Mars doesn't need a protector, a damn hero. She only needs Logan, and that is exactly what she's going to get.


	2. Part Two

**Title:** To Be Broken  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Logan/Veronica, Dick, Keith  
**Word Count: **2,318  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because Veronica _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** All aired episodes, to be safe, though nothing explicit. It's set in March of their second year at Hearst, so it's a slight future fic. New season 3 characters are pretty much non-entities in this, so don't worry about being spoiled about them. And…there's bad language. And quite possibly sex and violence in later parts.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. Please don't sue me.

**A/N:** Wow, guys, thanks so much for all the feedback! So glad you liked it! And…you're all gonna hate me for this chapter, but I promise you—it's not what it seems, I swear. So drop a line and let me know how evil I am. (It's always nice to be reminded, hee.)

**Part Two**

It becomes a case; it gets its own file, its own list of clues and information. Except Veronica's not getting paid for this, and the stakes are so much higher; making a mistake could cost her Logan, and that's unacceptable.

There's also a supreme lack of clues and information, because nothing seems out of the ordinary with Logan. He hasn't been to classes in a week, which she jots down just in case but really isn't anything odd. Logan's a slacker; he has yet to declare a major, and the only class he shows any remote interest in is Psychology. And she thinks that's because he kind of hero worships his professor.

He's been avoiding campus altogether, but again, that's not odd—Veronica realizes with a stab of hurt that he's probably been avoiding her. The day of the breakup, she learns from his various friends, was the first time they'd seen him in days. Even Dick had something to say about that.

"Yeah, Ronnie, he's just been spending all his time locked up in that house of his—totally blew me off when I came over to hang, wouldn't even let me in the door. Hey, you don't think he's keeping some, like, sex slave locked up in there, do you? Oh, no—sore subject, huh?" Veronica had refrained from tasering him only because he might prove to be a future source of information. But if BFF Dick didn't even know what was going on with Logan, it meant he was going to extreme lengths to hide whatever it is. She just wishes she could figure out what those lengths are.

She's worked the credit card angle already—no recent huge purchases, nothing strange or unusual. There also hasn't been any large cash withdrawals—she'd breathed a sigh of relief when she realized he wasn't running away. But with that information, there also came the fact that she had nothing to go on but her instincts, which, while a lot in her book, isn't much anywhere else.

Still, she's not giving up—she'll tail Logan anywhere he goes if she has to, just to figure out what the hell is up. Now, if only he'd actually _go _somewhere.

"Come on, Logan," Veronica whispers out loud, sipping coffee from her thermos and eyeing his extremely stationary truck in his driveway. The drapes she'd picked out for him that August are drawn, completely obscuring her view of the front room, and for a fleeting minute she wishes she hadn't pressed so hard for them. Veronica feels another wave of sadness sweep over her—these had been coming a lot lately, suddenly and annoyingly—as she remembers that day. He'd picked out drapes with little yellow trucks on them, saying they brought back fond memories of his former vehicle. When she scoffed and proceeded to insult his beloved XTerra, he'd pouted the whole way home, until she gave him a hand job in the Range Rover. "See, we can make new memories in this one," she said coyly as he threw his head back against the headrest.

The sound of her cell phone ringing brings her out of the memory, and she answers it quickly, not checking the caller id and irrationally hoping (as she has been for three days now) that it would be Logan. She can't help but feel disappointed when it's her father, even though yeah, it's irrational.

"Hello, daughter," comes Keith Mars' slightly annoyed voice, and she realizes with a jolt that she'd promised to be home for dinner and she is now nearly three hours late.

"Hello, father. Please don't disown me, I swear I just lost track of time. I'm on my way home as we speak."

"I won't disown you, don't worry. But you'd better be prepared to make some very interesting, very pleasant conversation with me over dinner—it's the only way you'll make up for ditching me for your boyfriend." Veronica cringes inwardly—yeah, she hasn't told Daddy yet. She hasn't told anyone yet, actually. Maybe it's because she's not accepting it—as far as she's concerned, no reason, no breakup. Call it denial, but she's sticking with it.

"See you soon, Dad. Love you." Ending the call, Veronica casts one last look as Logan's little house before slipping his folder in her bag and starting her car.

Inside her apartment, her father is heating up their dinner when she walks in. "I'm so sorry, Dad. But I'm here now, let the interesting conversation fly." She presses a kiss to his cheek and sets her bag on the counter. Keith notices the folder fluttering to the floor before she does, and he picks it up before she has a chance to react.

"Well, here's an interesting conversation topic: what are you doing with a file on your boyfriend?"

Veronica considers lying to him, she really does. But then she also considers the fact that she's been lying to him for three days, and she's been lying to everybody for three days—and despite what she's been telling herself, she really, really needs to talk about it. So, why not her father, who's possibly the one person on Earth that won't consider her crazy?

"It's—it's actually a file on my, well, ex-boyfriend." It's weird, saying it out loud, like it's actually true. She takes in a deep breath and tries to avoid his look of immediate empathy.

"Oh, honey—what happened?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Taking a seat at the counter, she takes the folder back from him and sets it down in front of her. "Logan didn't—he didn't give me a reason for it, just said we were over. But—there's more to it, I know it. Logan didn't want to end things, I could tell. I think he thought he had to, for some reason. And I'm trying to find out why."

"Honey—"

"No, Dad, I know it sounds crazy. I know it sounds like I'm desperate and needy and clingy and—well, crazy. But you don't know him like I do. He was—he was shaking, Dad. He was inconsolable. Something's going on with him, and I think that by dumping me, he felt he was protecting me."

That seems to make things different for Keith. He looks her in the eye, and very cautiously says, "Well, did you ever think about respecting his wishes?"

"Dad—"

"No, I'm serious. What if, whatever it is, really is dangerous. Maybe you should stay away, for your own safety, instead of going after it and getting caught in the middle of it. Logan went to such trouble to keep you out of it—and I believe you when you say it was hard for him, I know how he feels about you—then maybe you _should_ stay out of it."

Okay, now Veronica's kind of annoyed. She's sick of this protection crap; she's not a china doll, and she won't break at the first signs of danger. She gets their protective streak, she really does. But don't they see that she has one of her own? Can't they both understand that? "Well, if he is involved in something dangerous, that just makes me want to find out about it more. I can't just stand by while he goes deeper into whatever it is, not if it can get him hurt. I think you can relate to that, right?"

Keith looks like he wants to argue—like he really just wants to see how it doesn't go both ways, she's _his _daughter and she's the one he wants safe, his first priority—but he knows she won't hear that. So instead he sighs and turns to grab their plates. "Just, be careful, Veronica, please."

"I always am."

* * *

She's been making a point not to go by the bench, but the one day she does, he's sitting there, obviously waiting for her. Veronica freezes at the sight of him, not moving until he spots her and sits up straighter. "Uh, hey."

"Hi," she says, brightness that she doesn't feel lighting up her voice. "Uh, what's new?"

Logan doesn't seem to know how to respond to that; he just looks at her oddly for a minute, and she thinks he'd quirk his eyebrow if he were in a better mood. "Um, not much, just—I need to talk to you."

"Huh," she says coolly, sitting down on the bench and keeping a distance from him. "Weirdest sense of déjà vu here—"

"You're—you're not gonna like it," he puts in, and she folds her arms across her chest and looks at him.

"Yeah, I can tell—Jesus, Logan, have you slept at all in the past week?" His eyes are only slightly bloodshot, but the bags under them tell her just how little sleep he's gotten. His face is also unbelievably pale, and looks thinner, somehow, as though he hasn't been eating. She feels the coolness melt away almost instantly as the worry kicks in.

"Ah, no, not really, but—it's okay, I'm just—" Suddenly bad at forming sentences, she realizes, reading his nervous behavior and resisting the urge to touch him. "I—I need my key back."

Okay, there goes that touching urge. "What?"

"I'm—I'm really sorry, but I need it back. It's important."

And now Veronica's fuming; he's really doing this, really cutting her out of his life. "Why?"

He gives her a look—why do you think?—that infuriates her further, and then he struggles to come up with an answer. "I just—I need it, Veronica, okay, I'm sorry—"

"God, this is bullshit!" she bursts out, digging through her bag viciously. "I don't know where you get off being like this. First you just dump me, no explanation, no reason, and now I'm supposed to just stand here and take this and not argue—I'm in this relationship too, you know. I don't get how you can just say it's over. It's not over, Logan, not until we both say it is."

"Veronica, please—"

"No, okay? No. You can't just end this, you can't—" And suddenly, she's crying, and when did that happen? And damn him, for looking so devastated, for looking like he wants to just grab her and hold her to him. And damn her for wishing he would.

"I'm so sorry," Logan says, voice breaking all over, and Veronica lets a sob escape, because dammit, this is really happening, he's really doing this to her. "God, V, I'm—"

"Save it," she spits, because she's crying fully now, and she doesn't want to give him that satisfaction (even though she knows deep down this is anything but satisfying for him). "Just forget it. Here." Veronica digs out his key, finally, and yanks it off her key ring, hurling it at him as hard as she can. She watches it catch him in the chest, and watches him look down at it like it's the worst thing he's ever held. "There's your key, enjoy it. And congratulations; it's over. I won't bother you anymore." And this time, she's the one to leave him. And though she doesn't look back, she knows he's still sitting there, looking every bit as broken and hollow as she feels.

* * *

There are two things that come to mind when you hear your daughter sobbing inside her room: 1. Hold her and make it all better or 2. destroy the person who caused her to start sobbing. Veronica's locked herself in her room and made it clear she wants to be alone, so Keith has no choice but to go with option number two. Which he's perfectly glad to do. 

It's not that he doesn't like Logan. He does. It's taken some time to get there—a lot of time, actually, nearly two years' worth. But Logan had made it clear early on that he wasn't planning on going anywhere, so Keith might as well get used to him. He'd also made it clear that he would try his best not to hurt Veronica, which was really all Keith could ask for. The boy wasn't perfect—Keith's old enough to know that perfect is such a myth, almost as much of a myth as normal is—but he could be worse.

But now Logan's done both of what he'd promised not to: he's ditched Veronica, and he's hurt her. And that's just not working for Keith. Sure, if he thinks about it clearly and rationally, he might understand where Logan's coming from—the signs are all there, pointed out to him by Veronica. And maybe he should be grateful that Logan's cutting her loose—if he is, in fact, doing it for her safety. But all he's thinking about right now is that his little girl is in pain, and there's not much, if anything, he can do to fix that. And that's not working for Keith, either.

So when he pulls up in front of Logan's tiny house by the beach (God, he remembers with a pang of sadness how excited Veronica was about that stupid house), he has every intention of causing Logan real, physical harm. He's ready to tear into him, demand an explanation and force him into fixing this mess. Because no one hurts his daughter and gets away with it, that's for damn sure.

Banging on the door, he waits, muscles tensed in anticipation, ears alert and listening for signs of movement within the house. When he hears a distinctly feminine voice call out, "I'll get it, it's probably the pizza," his blood boils. When he hears Logan's muffled shout of, "No, Hannah, don't!" his jaw clenches. And when the door swings open to reveal a very blonde, very pregnant young girl, well, he can't help but bite out, "Sorry, no pizza."


	3. Part Three

**Title:** To Be Broken  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Logan/Veronica, Keith, Hannah  
**Word Count: **2,285  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because Veronica _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** All aired episodes, to be safe, though nothing explicit. It's set in March of their second year at Hearst, so it's a slight future fic. New season 3 characters are pretty much non-entities in this, so don't worry about being spoiled about them. And…there's bad language. And quite possibly sex and violence in later parts.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. Please don't sue me.

**A/N:** Eeee, your reviews make me happy. I am so glad you guys are into this. And I love how everyone's like, wtfHannah? Because that's exactly what I was going for. I'm posting this chapter up tonight because it's kinda short (shorter than the others, at least) and because it's basically just expository—so it kinda sucks. Heh, sorry. Also: Logan POV! Squee! Obviously, this is my first time ever writing Logan POV, and I really wanna know how I did. I got comfortable with Veronica and Keith pretty quickly, but Logan's my favorite, and I wanna make sure I didn't mess him up. And I can't promise another update really quick, cause this is the last of the chapters I already have written, and I have classes, so...soon, though. I'm not a crazy update Nazi, I swear.

**Part Three**

He feels his stomach drop when he sees Keith Mars standing in his doorway, looking between him and Hannah with complete and utter disappointment. He feels his heart skip a beat when he sees Keith's clenched fists and internally predicts that this night isn't going to end without him getting punched in the jaw.

Logan takes in a breath, then jerks his head at Hannah, signaling her to step back and let Keith in. She does so, avoiding the older man's eyes as she moves slowly into the room. Hands fluttering protectively over her round, beach ball stomach, she looks nervously between the two men, and Logan wonders for a minute what she would do if Keith really did start beating the shit out of him. He can almost, almost picture her yanking Keith off of him, but not really—she'd probably cry and yell a lot. He doesn't want to think about what Veronica would do; that hurts too much.

He takes in another deep breath and faces the short, angry man standing in front of him. "This isn't what it looks like," Logan blurts out, and he realizes just how flimsy that sounds seconds after he says it.

Keith folds him arms across his chest. "Oh, really, huh? Are you sure? Cause it looks like you dumped Veronica because you got another girl pregnant—and then lied about it, to prevent your own castration. That's what it looks like."

Hannah's eyes widen, and her face turns sharply to meet his. "You dumped Veronica? Why didn't you tell me?" Logan groans, and then, as if an afterthought, Hannah turns to face Keith and throws out, "And the baby's not his."

Keith softens a teeny, tiny little bit. "Logan. Start explaining. Now."

"The baby's not mine," he says, and fuck, he seems to have misplaced all coherent thought. Wonderful.

"Yeah, I got that. What's going on?"

Logan doesn't even know where to start, and he's grateful when Hannah takes over. "The baby—the father of my baby isn't Logan. It's Ian Fitzpatrick."

He can practically see the light bulb go off in Keith's head. "Oh. I see. And—you're—"

"Hannah Griffith," she supplies, and suddenly, he's amazed at how strong she looks. She's not the wispy, timid girl he dated two years ago. "Daughter of Dr. Thomas Griffith, liar, cheater, cokehead and asshole." There's a bitterness in her voice that wasn't there before, and that makes him sad; Hannah was so good, and so pure, and if anyone deserved to stay that way, it was Hannah. Not for the first time since she showed up on his doorstep, almost two weeks ago, he feels his stomach clench at the thought of everything that's happened to her—at what those assholes are doing to her.

Keith nods, encouraging her to go on, and he watches her take a deep breath and continue. "When I came back for the summer, my dad told me he'd—he'd made some arrangements. Apparently, Liam and his buddies were concerned about little brother Ian, saying he needed to step up in the world and get a girlfriend. And apparently, my father thought it would be okay to just hand me over." Hannah bites her lower lip slightly, backing up and seating herself on the sofa. Keith joins her, but Logan stays standing, too full of his now-familiar nervous energy to sit still. "I—I thought that Ian was a nice guy, at first. He was sweet and he—he wasn't like the others. But then he—he forced—" And that's where she breaks, her strength waning, and Logan swallows hard as the anger courses through him. He resists the urge to punch something when he sees that Keith has spotted his tensed jaw and clenched fists.

"I told my dad, and he wanted to do something, but—" And Logan feels the anger again, like a shot through his chest, and he remembers the feeling now, remembers those times two years ago when he just wished that bastard Thomas Griffith would shut his lying mouth and disappear.

"But the good doctor owes too much money to our favorite Mick thugs," Logan spits out bitterly, and Keith is eyeing him now, much more softly than before, and he thinks he should be relieved at that, but he's not. This whole situation is just so fucked up—he doesn't think he'll ever feel relieved again. He's been in a constant state of anxiety and frustration and anger since Hannah asked him for his help, that he can't imagine just feeling okay again.

Hannah nods, slowly, then closes her eyes and braces herself again. "So, we—we left it alone. And then we found out I was pregnant. Daddy kept me away from the Fitzpatrick's, and I was all set to go back to school back east—but they wouldn't take me back, due to my 'condition'." She glares at her knees for a minute, and Logan commiserates with her; he just wants to punch anybody that made this thing worse for her. "I stayed in Neptune, and they—the Fitzpatrick's—they found out, about the baby, somehow. I don't know how, or who told them, but—about two weeks ago, Liam was at my dad's door with Ian, and he was furious and he was insisting that we get married. They fought, Liam and my father, and Daddy told me to go upstairs, that he would take care of everything, and I did. And I stayed up there, and when I came back down again—he was gone. He—he left a note—" And now there are angry tears streaming down her face, and Keith puts a tentative hand on her shoulder as she cries, and Logan knows it's up to him to finish explaining now.

"They have her mother," he says, voice laced with bitterness. "They have her locked up somewhere—Hannah ran over there after she couldn't find her dad, and the house had been broken into, and—and they want their kid, Keith. It's like some sick, pride thing with them. They want Hannah and they want her baby and I—I can't let them take them."

Keith's looking right at him now, and finally, the confusion clouding his eyes is gone, replaced by understanding and…something he doesn't quite recognize, but doesn't dare to hope is respect. "What are you going to do, Logan?" he asks quietly, and Logan sighs, because that is the question that's been keeping him at night.

"I—I don't know, really," he admits sullenly. "The Fitzpatrick's don't know I'm involved—they don't know where Hannah is yet. It's going to stay that way until I can figure out where they're keeping her mom and—and get her back somehow."

"Logan—"

"Don't, okay?" He doesn't need him to argue; he's been arguing with himself enough. These past two weeks, he's been going over it in his head, over and over, just going through the same arguments. He was supposed to be through with all of this, moved on. It's been two fucking years since he's actually had to fear for his life, dreading his impending doom and yet edging out to meet it, sickly tempted by the darkness of it. But he can't turn her away. He looks at Hannah—her big, doe eyes, her trusting, timid smile, and sees the bitterness there, the despair and the hardness and he hates that she's—she's tainted now, when she shouldn't be, doesn't have to be. She doesn't deserve what happened to her, and he can't just let it go without making things right for her. And then he sees her stomach—her protruding, round, nearly-7-months-pregnant stomach, and he realizes with a jolt of fear and anger what that baby might wind up being born into. And he _can't _let that happen. It's just not in him.

"Look, all you need to understand is that Veronica needs to stay away," Logan tells him, voice deep with resignation. "She can't be involved, and—you get it, right? You get why I had to—to hurt her like that?"

Keith nods slowly, but his eyes are searching Logan's, and he shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. "I get it, Logan. But, son, you need help. You can't do this on your own."

He knows; he's not stupid. But he doesn't see any other options. "Look, the less people involved in this—you know if we go to the cops, one of those inbred animals will just come after her while they're arresting the others. I don't have many choices here." He looks up to meet Keith's eyes, and pleads with him trying to get him to understand. "Just, keep Veronica away, okay, please? I didn't want to hurt her, but—" His fists clench involuntarily, and he feels his fingernails digging into his palms but he doesn't really care. Just the thought of Veronica on that bench, crying and pleading with him—it made his heart ache and his stomach churn. He hated that he could do that to her—and he hated that he had to.

Keith nods again. "Okay, Logan. But I want you to think of any way you can that I can help. I don't think you should have to do this alone."

"I—okay, then, thanks." Keith stands up, and Hannah looks like she wants to follow him to the door (he seems so safe, and he's an adult and a dad, and he can tell that she wants to believe he can make it all better, just like he does), but she's almost seven months pregnant and it's hard for her to stand up.

"Thank you, Mr. Mars." Her tears have dried now, but her eyes, the ones that have been perpetually sad since this whole thing started, are red-rimmed, and they remind him of Veronica's from earlier that day, and God, that makes him want to kick things.

"Good luck, Hannah. It was nice meeting you. I'll be in touch." Logan walks him to the door, and Keith turns back to him briefly. "I mean it, Logan. Anything I can do at all to help, please tell me—"

"I will," he says, even though he really has no intention of doing so. Involving Keith could possibly involve Veronica, and that can't happen.

"And Logan—I'll try and keep Veronica away, but you know her—I can't make any guarantees."

"Just—just try, okay? I—I can't—" Logan realizes with disgust how weak his voice sounds, and he rolls his eyes and blinks rapidly. "She can't get hurt. I can't let her get hurt over this." He looks away from the older man and feels his piercing gaze again and damn, he wishes he could read him.

"Okay, Logan. I'll try." Logan closes the door behind Keith and turns back to the couch, where Hannah's staring at her knees.

"Logan," she starts in a small voice, but he shakes his head and crosses the room to her, reaching a hand out.

"Come on, it's late. You should get some rest."

"I'm sorry," she whispers, and she's sad that it breaks his heart, and God, he hates whoever's done this to them; why can't fate just leave them the fuck alone?

"It's okay," he answers her, helping her to her feet and leading her to his spare bedroom, trying and failing to not look inside of it and remember Veronica standing in it, looking around with wide, excited eyes and making plans to make it her office, her special place. His throat tightens as he thinks of her in his house, and he closes his eyes as Hannah shuts the door behind her.

This is going to end badly; he knows it, and he thinks Hannah knows it, too. Sometimes he wishes that she'd never come to him for help—he was doing okay, dammit, and now he's barely holding his head above water. But she's drowning and she needs him and who is he to say no? She saved his life, once, and maybe she didn't really know it, and maybe it wasn't direct, but it was there. And she forgave him, for everything, so he shouldn't still feel guilty.

And this isn't guilt—not really. This is more—this is thinking about bringing Hannah's mother home, and wishing someone would bring his home, too. This is thinking of that baby, growing up into that life and that godforsaken family and thinking that he or she doesn't deserve this—didn't ask for this, is totally innocent in all this, kinda like Hannah is. And Logan was never innocent, and maybe he deserved some of it, but not all of it—never all of it, and it's taken him a while to realize that, but he has.

Logan thinks about feather-light kisses, warm reassurances and a scent that is just Veronica and he aches all over, because he's probably lost her now, and dammit, he doesn't want to lose her. For a while there, they were both swimming together, almost to the shore—and now he's cut her loose and practically demanded that she keep swimming without him. And she's standing on the shore, hurt and lonely and angry, and he fucking _hates_ that he did that to her—but he sees no other way. He only prays that she'll stay on that shore, stay the fuck away from him and stupid, drowning ass and wait around to see if he can pull himself (and Hannah) back up again.

But then, she's Veronica Mars, and she's always had a bit of lifeguard in her. That's what scares him the most.


	4. Part Four

**Title:** To Be Broken  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Logan/Veronica, Wallace, Mac, Keith  
**Word Count:** 2,499  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because Veronica _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** All aired episodes, to be safe, though nothing explicit. It's set in March of their second year at Hearst, so it's a slight future fic. New season 3 characters are pretty much non-entities in this, so don't worry about being spoiled about them. And…there's bad language. And quite possibly sex and violence in later parts.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. Please don't sue me.

**A/N:** God, I love your reviews. Seriously, they made me so happy I totally blew off studying to write this. Of course, now I have about 80 pages to read and I have an 8:30 class tomorrow but oh well. This is way more fun. And just so you know, I **love** long reviews. Don't ever let it be said that I don't. Long reviews that give me really useful feedback are my crack. I'd totally reply to all of them if that link ever worked for me (seriously, it always gives me an error when I try that. jerk).

**Part Four**

Veronica prods her salad gently with her fork, trying to nod along and look engaged in the conversation that Wallace and Mac are carrying around her, but it's hard. She's trying desperately not to be mopey, not to be that clichéd wallowing ex-girlfriend drowning her sorrows in Ben and Jerry's. That's way too _Gilmore Girls _for her taste. She wants to brush this off and bounce back—Teflon Veronica, the perfect deflector of real emotions. She thinks that if this had happened two years ago, she might be able to do just that.

But she's changed, and she and Logan together have changed. They've fought and they've fought and they've pushed through some pretty awful shit and now, to just have it be over, to not be fighting anymore—it hurts. She's let herself care deeply for Logan, love him like she hasn't loved anybody in a long time, and she's no longer able to just turn that off. She kind of hates him for that.

They notice; of course they do. Wallace and Mac know her better than anyone. They watch her involuntary, perpetual frown that she probably doesn't even notice, her sad, slightly swollen eyes, the way she stares off into nothing, pain clouding her features as she thinks of something—someone, like him. But they're not sure what to do or say, so they just watch her, and that would get on her nerves if she could bring herself to care about it.

Wallace trails off when he realizes that Mac, too, has stopped listening to him and has started looking at Veronica with a mix of sympathy and sadness. It takes the blonde a minute to notice the silence, but when she does, she tries to hide her crappy mood.

"What? Do I have lettuce in my teeth?"

Wallace cracks a smile, but Mac doesn't even blink. "Come on, Veronica."

"What?" She's got a good poker face, they all know it, but those two are good; they know her way too well.

"You don't have to pretend with us," Mac says solemnly. "I mean, look who you're talking here: the Walking Relationship Disaster and Mr. I'm Too Cool For Anything Serious, Ever. We get it; breakups really, really suck. You don't have to play it off like it's nothing."

Wallace nods along, then glares at Mac. "Hey! I am not too cool—"

"Ain't that the truth," Mac cuts him off, and he glares at her some more, and Veronica almost smiles for real that time.

"Look, Mac, I really don't want to talk about it," Veronica tells her, and her brunette friend rolls her eyes.

"Of course you don't want to talk about it, but it looks like you need to. Just let it out, instead of letting it stew inside that whacked-out head of yours."

"Hey, my head is not whacked-out!" Off their looks, she sighs and rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine. But it's not _that_ whacked-out." They both smirk at her, and she huffs. "Man, you two are _so_ not nice to me."

"And you are _so _not getting out of this," Mac puts in. "Come on, Veronica. This is just going to eat you up if you don't get it out. What happened with Logan? You said he just broke up with you, but that doesn't make any sense. What happened?"

Veronica almost decides to share her conspiracy theories with her two favorite comrades, but she doesn't feel like being considered a lunatic and a needy, psycho ex. So she goes with the bare facts, and it's the truth, which comforts her slightly. "That's really all that happened, Mac. Logan dumped me, then asked for his key back. No explanations, no reasons, that's it. I threw said key at him, and it's over. End of story."

Both Mac and Wallace are looking at her pityingly now, and man, she hates that. But before she can snap at them to take a picture (it lasts longer), Mac bites out, "Man. What an asshole."

Veronica forces a smile, even though it hurts to hear it and still want to defend him. And she _knows _that there's more to it, more than just him being an asshole. She almost wishes she didn't, as if that would make this easier somehow.

But while Mac starts spewing insults about Logan and men and penises (and if anyone has a right to be bitter about those subjects, it's Mac), Wallace is looking at her oddly, and just like that, she knows that he _knows. _He knows that the story doesn't add up, and there's a missing number in this equation, and he's sympathetic to both her _and_ Logan, and that is why Wallace Fennel is, and always be, her best friend.

It's probably the reason why later, when she's grabbing coffee from the vendor near the parking lot, he's suddenly jogging over. "You know, I'm not an office aide anymore, but I do tend to come by some information every now and then, and I was just thinking—"

"Spill," Veronica says, eyes alight with curiosity.

He looks cautious, as though he's not sure he wants to say what he's about to say, or if this is a good idea, but then he goes ahead with it. "I was just in the guidance office, and I ran into Logan. You should know—pretty sure he's dropping out."

She feels her eyes widen almost involuntarily, and her head spins slightly. "Why would you think that?"

"He made a comment—you know him, with the sarcasm. Talking about parting ways, end of an era—he babbles a lot, V, and I've kinda learned to tune him out." She's moving towards the stone building before the sentence is even finished, shoving the coffee in his hands and hurrying away.

"Thanks, Wallace, you're the best."

"Yeah, I know."

She ignores the way her heart is fluttering as she hurries down the halls to where she knows the guidance office is. He can't be doing this—this is just unreal. There is no way she is going to just let this slide—she gets that he thinks he's doing her a favor by pushing her away, but this is his future. Veronica likes to think that he'd built some sense of self-worth since high school.

Logan's exiting the office when she reaches it, head bent and gait more subdued than his usual swagger. He looks up and spots her, eyes registering his surprise. He opens his mouth to speak, but she beats him to it.

"What the hell are you thinking, Logan?"

He looks confused. "What—"

"Dropping out?" Veronica exclaims, and she can't help the slightly hysterical note in her voice. "Just—what is _wrong _with you?"

"How did you—" But he stops, answering his own question in his head, lips twisting into a small, self-deprecating smile. "Young Fennel. You know, if I didn't think he'd learned to finally just tune me out by now, I totally wouldn't have said anything."

This is kind of new. This isn't the broken, sad Logan she'd come accustomed to since the breakup. This is bitter, snarky-cause-he-doesn't-give-a-shit Logan. This is _regressed _Logan, the Logan of '05-'06. How lucky for her.

"God, Logan, do you even hear yourself? You know, I get that you might not care about me, but I'd hoped you still cared about yourself enough not to _completely fuck up your future._"

Logan glares at her, even she can see the slight flicker of hurt in his face. Good. "You think I don't care about you?"

"And what am I supposed to think?"

"I—I don't know," he admits, and he's back to being melancholy and pitiful again, and fuck him for looking so sad and huggable.

"And the best part is, I'm supposed to just stand here and let it go while you throw your life away right in front of my face for no apparent reason. And I'm supposed to believe that it's just because 'you need time'—"

"Look, there are more important things than—than all this!" Logan snaps, and she feels hurt strike her, because she's thinking, more important than me? But she doesn't say that. Instead, she does what she does best: lashes out.

"Oh yeah, like what, deciding what bimbo to fuck next?" It's stupid and irrational but it stings him, she can tell, and even though she feels bad for it, she doesn't regret it.

"God, Ronnie—you know there's no one else." He sounds so sincere, and so sad, and she believes it, of course she does. But before she has time to soften up, his eyes suddenly go hard and his walls shoot up. "Look, I have to go. We can continue this shouting match some other time, since, as you know, I've got a lot of it free now." Logan turns away and starts walking towards the door; he stops for a minute, turns back and opens his mouth, and she glimpses him again, that scared little boy that's jumping headfirst into something dark and dangerous and quite possibly fatal. And then he shuts his mouth and he's gone, leaving her there practically shaking with unbridled rage and fear.

* * *

She tails him.

Really, what else is she supposed to do? He doesn't honestly expect her to really just 'stand there and let it go', does he? If so, he doesn't know her very well. Or maybe he thinks that his weak sarcasm is enough to send her running; maybe—and this one hurts—he doesn't trust her enough to not take off. Maybe he's still convinced she'll run at even the slightest problem, and she realizes that, given their history, she's never yet proven him wrong.

Well, now's her chance. She's going to prove him wrong, because he is wrong; she's not going anywhere. Logan better get used to having a tiny blonde shadow tailing his every move, because that's just how it's going to be. And no amount of hurtful jabs and supreme acts of stupidity (dropping out, Logan? Dammit.) is going to change that.

Veronica follows the Range Rover through the rather shadier streets of Neptune, past Mars Investigations but not quite in 02'er territories. She's slightly relieved when he doesn't stop the car in Pacoville (and damn him for infusing her vocabulary with his racist stupidity); at least she can cross gang wars off her list. The house he's parked across from is vaguely familiar, and she can't quite place it, so she starts digging for her laptop while observing Logan.

She realizes with some slight amusement that he's staking out the house. From her view, she can see him staring intently at the house, eyes alert for any signs of movement within it or exiting it. Opening her laptop, she glances back at the house again, desperately trying to place it. But she doesn't remember it, at least not until she runs the address and the name of the owner pops up.

"Jesus, Logan," she whispers, glaring back over at his car. Danny Boyd? What the fuck is he doing, getting involved with the Fitzpatrick's again? Frustrated at the complete lack of answers, she snaps her laptop shut and sulks slightly against her car door.

It's hours later when he finally gives up, and she can't be more relieved. She's always known they were both stubborn, but she hadn't realized just how stubborn he could be until he sat there for what seemed like forever, waiting for—for something, she doesn't know what. She watches him pull away and gives him a minute head start before following him (thankfully) to his house. Veronica only lets out a breath when she sees him go into the house and close the door behind him, and she waits a few minutes to make sure he's really in for the night before heading home.

Her father is waiting up for her when she gets home, and she wasn't expecting that. "You do realize I'm in college now, right?" Veronica quips, forcing a smile at his obviously grumpy and sleepy demeanor. "I mean, you even encouraged me to go out and do crazy college stuff at night like a normal girl."

Keith glares at her, though he really just looks tired. "I have a feeling you weren't doing any crazy college stuff, Veronica."

She tries to play innocent. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Veronica." She stops her slow, subtle journey towards her room and faces him. "Look, sweetie, I know you're hurting over Logan, but I really do think it would be best if you tried to let it go, move on a bit."

"Yeah, okay, Dad, cause that's so totally me," she retorts, trying not to sound so pissy, but God.

"I just think it's in your best interest to—"

"No, it's in my best interest to figure out what's wrong with my boyfriend and help him!" Veronica exclaims.

"Honey, it's dangerous—"

"How do you—" She breaks off, because, oh. Of course. Once again, she's underestimated her father. She feels her eyes cloud with betrayal as she glares at him. "You know, don't you? You know what it is."

"I don't—"

"No," she snaps, and she's never spoken this coldly to her father before. "No, don't you dare lie to me, Dad. Tell me what it is. Tell me what's going on."

Keith sighs, and looks her in the eye and tells her, "I can't."

"Dad—"

"No," and now he's the cold one. "No, sweetie, I'm sorry, but I made a promise to keep you out of it, and that's what I'm going to do."

"I know the Fitzpatrick's are involved," Veronica throws out, desperation and panic making her voice climb higher. "I _need _to know what's going on. I need to know how I can keep him safe."

"Veronica, you already know too much. You just need to stay out of it."

She doesn't think she's ever, ever been this angry with him. "Please, just—"

"No."

She wants to throw something at him. "God, Dad, he could—if something happens to Logan because of this—he could—he could die." She lets out a sob at just the mere word, and can't he see that this is killing her?

Keith can see it, she can tell. But Keith also sees his daughter, and how he has to protect her, and he shakes his head sadly. "If it—if it helps, I'm working on it. He's got backup, even if he doesn't want it."

But it doesn't help. Veronica lets him know that by walking out, slamming into her room and dropping onto her bed, letting the tears flow freely. It won't help, nothing will help, not until she knows he's safe and knows that she can make him safe, makes sure she doesn't lose him. Because that thought is enough to make her heart stop and her breathing hitch and just—no. She can't lose him. She won't.


	5. Part Five

**Title:** To Be Broken  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Logan/Veronica, Mac, Wallace, Hannah  
**Word Count:** 2,616  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because Veronica _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** All aired episodes, to be safe, though nothing explicit. It's set in March of their second year at Hearst, so it's a slight future fic. New season 3 characters are pretty much non-entities in this, so don't worry about being spoiled about them. And…there's bad language. And quite possibly sex and violence in later parts.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. Please don't sue me.

**A/N:** Wow, didn't think I was gonna finish this one tonight, but look—came home, sat down and there it goes! I'm posting this and then going out because, yes, I'm in college and I have a life, as my boyfriend keeps having to remind me. I like forgetting I have a life sometimes, though. Fics like this one pop out then, and that's fun.

I really, really love all your reviews—seriously, you guys have no idea how much they motivate me. They work better than the outline I have for this story, which I deviate from more and more each chapter. Don't you love it when that happens? This story is taking on a life of it's own, and it's gonna start to get really interesting soon. Seriously, chapters 7 and 8 are my favorite in this story, and they're coming really soon, and I cannot wait to write them. And these author's notes are getting longer and longer, so I'm gonna cut it off here and just thank you again for the feedback—you guys rock so hard.

Oh, and one last rant: stupid ass Word keeps on changing Fitzpatricks to Fitzpatrick's and it's pissing me off and I just noticed it now and fixed it, but it did it in all the other chapters, too, and I don't even remember what's gramatically correct anymore, lol. Argh.

**Part Five**

Music pounds through the stereo and reverberates through the house, and Veronica has the sudden urge to stab herself in the eye. Mac dragged her here (God, when did Mac get so social?), along with an enthusiastic Wallace, informing her that the best way to get over her troubles was a few ego boosts from some wide-eyed, innocent college freshmen. While Veronica is itching to leave, Mac had driven her, so now she's stuck in this hellhole until her friend gets tired of hanging out her with her fellow CS geeks.

The ever faithful Wallace strolls over from where he's laughing with a few girls to where she's sitting at a table, chin in hand, counting tiles on the floor. He gives her a sympathetic grimace and sits down next to her. "Having fun?"

"Oh, just a barrel of laughs," she informs him, and he smiles.

"Sorry about this. When Mac was fixing your dad's computer at the office, he mentioned to her that you were having a tough time with all this, and he would appreciate it if she helped you with the moving on thing."

Veronica's not surprised, but she does feel slightly betrayed. "Ah, and why am I not surprised?"

"Don't be mad at Mac, V. She's only trying to help."

"I'm not. It's my father whose murder I'm plotting." She looks at him. "Patricide is all the rage this year, you know."

"He just wants to help, too. We're all worried about you."

"Dad knows exactly how he can help me," she says darkly, glaring over at Wallace. "He knows what's going on with Logan, knows that something's wrong with him, and he won't tell me what it is."

Wallace looks like he's going to try and agree with her, then shakes his head and smirks slightly. "But doesn't he know that you're Veronica Mars, and you don't need people to 'tell' you things?"

Veronica grins brilliantly at him, and God, she loves this kid. "Do I ever tell you just how awesome you are?"

"Sometimes. Not enough, though."

She's about to remind him when Mac suddenly hurries over, guiding a stricken-looking guy over by the arm. "Hey, guys!" she exclaims, her faux-perkiness only amusing to Veronica and Wallace, who know her better. "Veronica, this is Stevie. Stevie, Veronica."

"Hi, Stevie," Veronica throws out carelessly while Wallace gives the guy a little wave. She then glares at Mac viciously. "Mac, hon, you know I love you, but this—"

"Is awesome, I know!" she perks, and now Veronica doesn't want to stab herself anymore; oh no, it's all Mac now. "I mean, it's been so long since you've come out with us, and Stevie is totally into meeting new people, and I know you are, too, once you get past that whole hard, outer exterior thing."

"Mac, it's not so much an exterior as a sandwich board that says, 'Please, go away'," the blonde quips, and she watches as Mac gives her a hilarious fake-laugh. Oh, this girl is so dead. Deader than dead.

"You know, I have one of those myself," Stevie suddenly puts in, only he stammers it out, so it's anything but charming. Veronica can't help but stare at him in disbelief.

"Well, look at that!" Oh, Mac. Dead, dead, dead. "You guys totally have something in common! Come on, Wallace, let's leave them alone to get to know each other better." Wallace and Mac are gone in an instant, and Stevie is sitting down, and holy crap, they're both so dead.

Half an hour later, and Stevie still. Won't. Freaking. Leave. She's yawning right in his face, and making it perfectly clear that she has no idea what he's saying and she really doesn't want an idea, and he won't give up. Just as she contemplating dumping her soda right in his face and praying he'll get _that _hint, Wallace is at her shoulder. "Hey, V, you about ready to take off?"

She could kiss him, she is so grateful, except that would be ew. "Am I ever!" she beams, jumping up so quickly she knocks the chair over. Stevie looks slightly put out, and it's amazing how much she _doesn't care_, and she doesn't give him another look as she follows Wallace out to his car.

"Okay, so you get to live, but Mac? Dead. Seriously, say your goodbyes now, cause tomorrow? Pencil, right in the eye."

Wallace smiles at her harried-looking expression. "Awe, come on, V."

"She was like, something out of the Stepford Wives! I don't know what she's on, but I want it to stay far, far away from me, at all times."

"She's just trying too hard, you know that." Ah, Wallace. So diplomatic.

"Well, she shouldn't, because the moving on thing? So not going to work for me." Veronica blinks down at her fingernails, as Wallace starts up the car, and when she speaks, it comes out before she can think about it. "I miss him so much, Wallace." She didn't mean to sound so pitiful, but God, it's so true.

"I know, V." And he does know, because he's Wallace. "But—look. If Logan's into something dangerous, like you said, and he's involved with the Fitzpatrick's again—"

"No," she insists, because she's had this argument too many time with both Logan and her dad, and no one is going to win this one but her. "I'm not going to stay out of it, Wallace. I care about him. I—I love him. And there was a time when yeah, I would step back and stay away. There was a time when I did just that. But it didn't help—he just self-destructed more, and it didn't matter if I was around to watch it or not. By doing nothing, I just fueled the fire, and I am not going to do nothing again."

And Wallace knows her, so he knows that she's not going to back down on this. So he just nods quietly and takes her home, and maybe he wants to keep her safe, but he also wants to be her friend, and he won't be her friend unless he just lets her do this.

At home, she brings up her Logan-research and sifts through it in her room, the door closed, her dad continuing their silent war out in the living room. Sighing, she glares at her answerless research—nothing. No red flags, no paper trails, nothing. Just your average, everyday crime family making their way through their crime-filled world. And nothing that would link Logan to them. Still glaring, she retries her search, making her way through the countless articles and information concerning the Fitzpatricks. Scanning the items she's already read countless times, she doesn't stop until the name Lacey Shifflet pops out and, on a whim, she brings that up.

It's just an article, and she remembers when it came out—Kendall's body had never been found, but it had come out that she was presumed dead, and that either Cormac or Liam Fitzpatrick were responsible. There had been an investigation, which had screeched to a halt when Liam had been named a dead end and Cormac an even deader one—literally, dead, his body found out in the desert. She remembers when Logan found out about the probable death of Kendall Casablancas—he had shrugged it off, barely blinked, and then said something about adding another ex to the list. But now she's starting to wonder—the only possible link Logan has to the Fitzpatricks is a presumably dead ex-playmate—but what if that's enough?

Mind racing, Veronica starts digging, starting with Google and ending with thorough background checks, sifting through credit card records and the many aliases Kendall used in the past. It's such a long shot, but it's all she has to go on.

An hour later, she doesn't have much, but she does have a boatload of righteous anger, because she's discovered this: Priscilla Banks used a credit card at a Hilton in LA on July 12th, 2007—the same week Logan was up in LA. Logan had told her that the whole two weeks was a swirling, blurry black hole of memory, but maybe what he doesn't remember is a little impromptu reunion with a supposed-to-be dead fuck buddy. It wouldn't be the first time he'd used Kendall to forget about his relationship woes, and Veronica knows he had to have been miserable that week. And maybe, somehow, Kendall's back, and using Logan—somehow—to protect herself from the Fitzpatricks.

It makes no sense, she realizes—there are so many pieces missing in the puzzle. But it's starting to look more and more like Logan's just guilty, and not so much noble, and that he's covering for fucking Kendall, of all people.

And Veronica is pissed. No, scratch that. She's furious. How dare he dump her for something to do with Kendall? Knowing how she feels about that whole thing? Especially something that could ruin his life. Maybe he is just an idiot. Maybe she shouldn't waste her time.

But the longer she sits there, thinking about it, obsessing about it, the more she wants to believe the good side of this. That he's being forced into this, somehow, by blackmail or threats or something. She wants to believe that he would never, ever leave her willingly unless he absolutely had to.

And the longer she sits there, she knows—she has to know. She has to find out what this is. Which is why she's going to drive to Logan's house, throw all the information about Kendall she has at him, and make him talk. She will force him to trust her, and force him to let her in, and she won't be mad—she won't let herself be mad at him, because suppressing her anger will be worth it if he lets her help him. At this point, Veronica doesn't care if Logan's having crazy monkey sex all over his house with Kendall—she just wants him to be alive to do it.

Her father doesn't say anything as she bursts out of her room and leaves the apartment, because he knows what she's doing, he's not an idiot, and he knows he tried to stop her already, and any other attempts would be futile. And speeding along the streets of Neptune, staring forward at the road ahead, Veronica doesn't think about anyone but Logan—not her father, not Kendall, just Logan, and what she's going to say to him when she gets there. She's not going to beg—she's going to demand, and he's going to listen to her because he loves her, she knows it.

It takes him a while to get to the door after she knocks, and this is only works to make her more anxious, elevating the anticipation so much that she has to stop herself from launching her body at him and pounding him in the chest with her fists when he appears in the doorway. "Veronica, what are you—"

"I know," she says, shoving past him into the living room.

"You know what?" Oh, Logan. Playing dumb doesn't work on the master.

"I know about the Fitzpatricks, and that you've been staking out their houses, and that Kendall's alive and she's involved—"

"Wait, what? Kendall's alive?"

"It's okay, Logan. I'm not mad. At least, I'm trying not to be. I just—I know you were with her in LA. I know she's involved now—are you protecting her from them? Is she blackmailing you?"

"I have no idea what you're—"

"Just stop it!" Veronica screeches, cause she's so sick of people lying to her. "Just stop lying and tell me the truth! I know she has something to do with this! I know about LA! Just fill in the blanks—it'll just be easier for the both of us. I'm not backing down on this, so you can forget it."

"Veronica," Logan says slowly, stretching his words out carefully. "I really, _really _have no clue what you're talking about. As far as I know, Kendall is very, very dead. I haven't seen her since the week after graduation, and you were there, too. You have to believe me when I tell you she has _nothing _to do with this." And now he looks annoyed. "And how do you know about the Fitzpatricks? Did your dad—"

"My dad hasn't told me anything," she says, looking down at her feet. Then she looks up, her eyes wide, and backtracks. "But Logan, whatever it is—even if Kendall's not involved—the Fitzpatricks? What are you thinking, starting up trouble with them after everything that happened last time? Whatever it is, please, I won't be mad—just let me help you."

"No," Logan answers, and she's so sick of hearing that from him. "Look, even if I'd let you help me, there's nothing you can do. And I don't know how you know this stuff, but whatever you're doing, you need to stop it, and back off—"

"No!" Veronica retorts, eyes blazing again, and it's the _same _damn argument again, only this time, she's not leaving until he tells her. And now she's yelling, ripping into him. "No, you can't do this. I'm not letting you do this. You could be killed, Logan. You could die, and I can't let that happen. Don't you get it? I love you, you selfish moron, and I can't just stand by while you get yourself killed!"

"Veronica, please. Just, _please, _just let this go."

"No, I won't, and you know I won't, so you might as well just tell me before I figure it out myself. Because once I figure it out, you won't be able to stop me from getting involved—and then it _will _be your fault if something happens to me—"

"God, no, I won't let that happen, Veronica—"

"Logan." The small voice doesn't come from Veronica; it comes from the doorway leading to the hall with the two bedrooms in it. Veronica whirls around, and there's Hannah Griffith, pregnant Hannah Griffith, and it's like seeing Meg Manning in that hospital bed all over again—her heart literally skips two beats, and her blood freezes in her veins.

"Jesus, Hannah, what the hell are you doing?" Logan is furious; she hasn't seen him this angry in a long, long time. "I told you—"

"You can't do this to her!" Hannah shouts, and Veronica sees that there are tears running down her face, but all that really registers is her round, pregnant stomach. "You have to tell her, Logan. You can't just throw everything you have with her away because of this—it's my problem, you don't have to ruin your life and Veronica's because of it."

"Hannah, don't, okay? Please." Logan's voice is small and broken and defeated, and it makes Veronica ache, but not as much as Hannah's stomach does.

"Fine, I'm telling her."

"Hannah, don't—"

"Veronica, I'm going to tell you, but you have to stop being angry at Logan—he doesn't deserve it, he didn't do anything wrong. And you have to be careful—please, please be careful, I could never forgive myself if something happened to either of you." The young girl—God, she can't be done with high school yet—is still crying, but her voice is strong, stronger than Veronica can remember ever hearing it. This is a new Hannah Griffith—no more pretty in pink, Pep Squad pins and innocent smiles.

Which is really the only reason Veronica nods and tells her, "Okay," and listens to her story.


	6. Part Six

**Title:** To Be Broken  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Logan/Veronica, Hannah, Keith  
**Word Count:** 2,458  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because Veronica _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** All aired episodes, to be safe, though nothing explicit. It's set in March of their second year at Hearst, so it's a slight future fic. New season 3 characters are pretty much non-entities in this, so don't worry about being spoiled about them. And…there's bad language. And quite possibly sex and violence in later parts.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. Please don't sue me.

**A/N:** Okay, so, I totally wrote this with a hangover, lol, but writing it cheered me up some. I'm posting cause I want to get this done and start writing part 7 ASAP. So, leave reviews quick so I can post 7 up tonight!

Also: having a life is so overrated. And you guys all rock, seriously.

**Part Six**

"So, do you get it now?" Logan wants to know, gesturing wildly, and Veronica can see that his hands are shaking again. God, he's so scared. She fights back tears as she wishes uselessly that things could just be okay again for them. "Do you get why you have to stay away? Do you see how dangerous this is?"

"Logan—"

"Veronica, please," he begs, and even Hannah looks moved by the desperation in his voice; the tears she'd cried while telling Veronica her story are starting up again, and Veronica can't help but place a hand comfortingly on her arm, even as tears fill her own eyes. "I—I can't lose you, don't you get that? If you get hurt because of this—"

"And don't _you _get that this goes both ways?" the blonde cries out. "I can't lose you, either."

"I never should've done this," Hannah states miserably, wiping at her eyes. "I've ruined everything, I'm so—"

"No," Logan cuts her off. "Don't you dare apologize for what those bastards are doing to you, Hannah, I told you that. This isn't your fault."

"It's not yours either, Logan," Veronica insists. When he looks away, she gets to her feet quickly, not hesitating in touching his arm. "It's not, you know that, right?"

"Yeah," he says sullenly, and tries to pull away, but she clamps on and forces him to look at her.

"God, Logan, no, this isn't—you can't think this is your fault."

"Logan," comes Hannah's sad voice. "No, you weren't even—you didn't do anything, this isn't your fault."

"I know," he says, but he still won't look at either one of them. And Veronica can still see the guilt in his eyes, and she knows that he's not thinking rationally; he just hates what happened to Hannah, and he hates that he couldn't protect her and help her when it happened. Her heart breaks even more for him; God, this is so messed up.

"You can't do this by yourself," Veronica tells him, and Logan immediately goes from sad to annoyed. "No, I'm serious. You need help. Both of you do," she finishes, extending it to Hannah.

"Look, the Fitzpatricks don't know I'm involved yet, okay? I'll be fine until then. I just have to figure out where they're keeping Hannah's mom and get her away from them. Then Hannah and her mom are gonna disappear, and if the Fitzpatricks don't figure out I'm the one that got them out of here, I'll be good." He's trying and failing to sound confident, and she's glad that at least he knows how impossible that sounds.

"You do realize how utterly impossible that sounds, right?" Veronica voices. "We can come up with another way, okay? Talk to my dad—"

"No, God, don't you understand that involving other people is too dangerous?"

"My dad already knows, he's already involved—"

"But he's not going to do anything, Veronica, because I can't let him," he tells her, eyes liquid and pleading. "Your dad is all you've got, okay, and I can't risk—"

"Dammit, Logan, no! I've got you, too, and I'm not going to let you go!"

"Veronica—"

"Okay!" Hannah exclaims, heaving herself to her feet and walking over to stand between them before they can start up the argument again. "I think—I think we all need to take some time and just—just think about this, okay?"

"There's nothing to think about," Logan insists stubbornly. "Veronica, you should go. Just, stay away from this, and tell your dad to stay away, too. And Hannah, you should get some sleep."

"Logan—"

"Please, Logan—"

"God, Veronica, what can I do?" he shouts, his voice breaking. "What can I do to get you away from this? Do I have to make you hate me? Because I will, if that's what it takes."

"You can't make me hate you," Veronica answers, sniffing and touching his arm again. He jerks it out from under her, as if trying to prove her wrong, but it doesn't. It just makes her want to hold him more. "I could never hate you, Logan, because I love you too much." Sniffling again, she looks back at Hannah. "I'm going to help you guys. I am. And there is nothing you can do to stop me."

"Veronica, come on."

"No." She shakes her head slowly, then reaches out and grabs his hand, squeezing it tightly. She hears him sniff once and turn away, so she looks back at Hannah. "It's going to be okay, Hannah. I promise. Nothing is going to happen to you or the baby or Logan."

Hannah is blinking rapidly, but she nods quickly. "Thank you so much, Veronica. You have no idea how grateful I am. Just, whatever you do, _please _be careful."

Veronica smiles at the young girl one more time. "I always am."

* * *

"I'm so sorry," Hannah tells him once Veronica is gone, and he is opening his mouth to protest when she continues right over him. "No. I'm ruining everything. I've completely messed up your life—I didn't want this to happen, it's why I—I just wish I'd never come to you, never asked you to do this for me."

He looks mildly heartbroken, and is it ridiculous of her to still be in love with him, after all these years? Two years of nothing—but they never really broke up, did they? And she fell so hard and so fast, and when she had no where to go, she just knew—knew that he would help her, no matter what the cost.

But now the cost is getting too much—this is his life they're dealing with, and she can't ask him to give all of this up anymore. And Veronica—God, the little green monster in her wants to hate Veronica, but she can't, because she's so good and so determined and she just wants to help, and she just wants Logan to be okay, and they have that in common.

"Hannah, it's not—don't be sorry, please. I need to do this for you, do you get that? If something happens to you or that kid, it's just—I wouldn't be able to deal with that."

Hannah knows that he doesn't love her. Knows that he cares about her, feels bad for her, wants to protect her—but he loves Veronica, and she's very certain that will never change. It's why she hasn't told him the whole truth yet. The thought of losing her mother forever scares her, but not as much as his rejection does, and that's pretty pathetic.

She remembers walking into her mother's door—it wasn't locked, the hinges completely askew, and she remembers the way her breath caught at the sight of that. And she remembers charging through the house, screaming for her mother, tears streaming, and remembers the absolute, horrifying terror that punched her in the gut when she realized she was taken. And then she remembers considering, for about five minutes, whether she should just run away—save herself, save her child, just run. And she remembers, then, drawing up her shoulders and standing tall and refusing to do so, refusing to abandon her mother.

But now she's considering it once more, for Logan, because this—it's killing him, slowly and gradually, but killing him all the same. She sees the way he doesn't eat, the way he goes out at night and doesn't come home until way too late and then paces the night away, too anxious and angry to sleep. She sees how his fists are constantly clenched, and how he stares at random objects as though he'd really, really like to punch them.

"Logan," she says slowly, cautiously, because she knows this is going to piss him off. "Logan, what if I just—what if I just left? Just, walked away, you know? It could make things so much easier, for you, and—"

"Fuck, Hannah, no!" Logan bursts out, and she was right; he _is _pissed off. "God, no, what about your mom? You can't just abandon her—_we_ can't abandon her!"

"But this is too hard!" Hannah exclaims, furrowing her brow and trying to make him understand. "This is ruining your life, completely—you don't deserve this! I never should have asked this from you, I had no right—"

"Just stop it," he says, his voice hoarse, and he looks so sad and tired and she knows he just wants to sleep forever and ever. "Just stop. You should—you should get some rest, you look tired."

"Logan—"

"It's too late, Hannah," Logan says sadly, and he looks about 10 years older all of sudden, and that makes her want to kill something. "Just—go to sleep, okay?"

And she does, because she's Hannah Griffith and she's not really built to argue. But before she drifts off, she hears something crash from the living room and thinks that it's good that he finally punched something.

* * *

Keith is still on the couch, and she's happy about that, though she doesn't show it. Veronica wipes the tears away from her eyes and glares down at him from her standing position. "I want to know what you're doing to help Logan."

"Veronica—"

"Save it, okay? I know everything. I know about Hannah and I know about the baby and the Fitzpatricks. And I know that Logan _is _going to get himself killed unless someone helps him. So spill. Now."

Keith sighs heavily, and she knows that he doesn't want to tell her, wants to keep his precious baby girl as far away from it as he can. But he also knows said precious baby girl too well, and knows that nothing can keep her away, not now. So he talks. "There's not much I can do, Veronica. Logan's right. Involving Lamb would just be a waste of time, and quite possibly wreck the whole thing even more. And the Fitzpatricks are otherwise untouchable; they're not idiots, especially Liam, and there's no way we can bring them down on something else. They're too careful."

Veronica feels her steely confidence deflate as hope rushes out of her in one fell swoop. "So that's it, then? There's nothing?"

Keith shakes his head. "There's never nothing, Veronica. I'm going to keep digging; there has to be something that can help Logan and Hannah."

Tears prick her eyes once more, and God, when did she get this blubbery? But she thinks of Logan, thinks of his scared, tired face and his pleading eyes and figures it out. It was the same time she fell madly, deeply in love with him, and found herself unable to stop loving him. And now that the thought of losing him forever is so close, so real, well—it's a wonder she's not sobbing 24 hours a day, they way she wants to.

"He's so scared, Dad," Veronica admits, crossing the room to join him on the couch. She allows her father to encircle her shoulders with his arm and she leans into his comfort, so, so grateful for it. "But I don't think he's scared enough. All he's thinking about is saving Hannah, saving her baby and bringing her mother home—keeping me safe—and he's not thinking about what could happen to him."

"He is, honey, I'm sure of it. He's not an idiot. He just—he doesn't care very much about himself, not as much as he cares about you and helping Hannah. I'm sure that's something you can relate to."

Veronica rolls her eyes and looks at her dad pointedly. "You should've told me, you know. Do you know what I thought, when I first saw Hannah there? For a split-second—it was like Duncan and Meg all over again, Dad. I mean, I now know what a stroke feels like."

Her father looks sympathetic. "Logan was adamant that I keep you out of it—and I agreed with him, of course. I was respecting his wishes."

"I'm your daughter, you're supposed to respect _my _wishes," she retorts, but there's not much heart in it.

"Yes, but I'm also supposed to protect you."

"I don't need to be protected," she argues weakly, slipping out of her father's embrace and getting to her feet. "But I do need to sleep, because I'll be no help to Logan unconscious, so I'll see you in the morning."

"Night, sweetie. I love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

She's in her room for a second before inspiration strikes, and she bursts back out into the hall. "Dad!"

"What? What is it?"

"It's Kendall! Look, before, I was trying to find links between Logan and the Fitzpatricks—before I knew about Hannah. And I thought of her. So I ran credit card checks, for cards under all her aliases, and—"

"Kendall's dead, sweetie. I was there, remember?"

"I know, but they never found a body—you never saw her die, right? So it's completely possible—and probable—that she's still alive. Look, a credit card under the name Priscilla Banks was used in LA in July—same social security number, everything. It has to be her. Dad, what if we could find her and use her to—"

"To what, Veronica? Testify that Cormac Fitzpatrick tried to kill her? Cormac's dead, honey. Liam killed him. I really don't think they're going to care if Cormac gets ruled an attempted murderer."

"She worked with Cormac for years, Dad, and then Liam while Cormac was in prison. She has to have something on them, something we can blackmail them with."

Keith eyes her warily. "Honey, it's a long shot."

"But it's probably our _only _shot. We have to find her."

He sighs, then concedes. "Fine. Print me out the credit card information, and I'll head up to LA and see if I can find her tomorrow. That is, if she's even still there. It's March, honey, and Kendall was there in July. Has there been any card activity since then?"

Veronica looks sheepish as she shakes her head. "No. But Kendall's not stupid—she used the credit card at a Hilton once, and I doubt she'd use it again after that. She's a con artist, she could be making cash up there."

The older man nods, but still looks reluctant. "Okay. But Veronica—while I'm gone, you're going to stay away from Logan, and stay away from this case. I mean it—don't make me regret letting you get involved."

Veronica's not happy, but she nods. "Okay, Dad. I promise." She hopes that she'll be able to keep her promise, but then, when has fate ever gone in her favor?


	7. Part Seven

**Title:** To Be Broken  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Logan/Veronica, Liam Fitzpatrick, Danny Boyd  
**Word Count:** 2,029  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because Veronica _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** All aired episodes, to be safe, though nothing explicit. It's set in March of their second year at Hearst, so it's a slight future fic. New season 3 characters are pretty much non-entities in this, so don't worry about being spoiled about them. And…there's bad language. And quite possibly sex and violence in later parts.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. Please don't sue me.

**A/N:** Ugh, I totally blame my boyfriend for this part being so late and short. Seriously, he just showed up here and started distracting me and I totally lost my groove while writing this, so now it's kind of crappy. Hmph. And now he's asleep and I'm up with no one to talk to. Loser.

Anyway, thanks for all the quick reviews—you guys make me happy. Now it's really going to get good, and things are going to start coming out that you'll never see coming. And just so you know, there might, _might _be a sequel to this in the works—I have plans to set up for one, so we'll see how that goes.

**Part Seven**

She's grateful for the tracker she put on the back of Logan's Range Rover the night before when, late that night, she checks her laptop and he's on the move. Though she gives some thought to the promise she made her father, making sure Logan doesn't get himself killed is just a little more important than that.

Veronica follows him to a different house this time, another Fitzpatrick house, and watches him as he watches it. She gets what Logan's doing—trying to figure out where Hannah's mom might be stashed—and she's glad it hasn't taken a more dangerous turn yet, but—and she spoke too soon, because there's Liam Fitzpatrick exiting the house and getting into a pickup truck. And there's Logan following the pickup truck and wonderful, this night's gonna wind up totally fucking terrific, right?

The truck pulls up in front of a house she recognizes as Kendall Casablancas'. Veronica remembers seeing Liam and her father go flying through the huge picture window in the front of the house. She smirks as she realizes it's been replaced. Logan parks across and a few feet away from where Liam's parked, and she parks a few feet away from him as Liam gets out of the truck and goes into the house. She can't see the house that well from where she is, just the front door and that big window, but she can see Logan's profile clearly, and watches his arm move as though writing something down. She'd think his spy games were adorable if she didn't think they were going to get him killed.

It's a while before Liam exits the house again, climbs into the truck and pulls away. Veronica watches Logan like a hawk; she can almost feel what he's thinking from where she is, and she's praying he's not going to—oh, there he goes. Logan gets out of his SUV and makes his way slowly and cautiously to the house. She watches him pause slightly at the foot of the stairs leading up to the house, before coming to some kind of decision and continuing his way up there. Veronica almost smiles as she watches him fiddling with the lock, obviously trying to pick it or something, but the smile drops almost immediately and she has to stop herself from bursting out of the car when the front door swings open.

* * *

Logan really hadn't expected to be blinking into the face of a confused-looking Danny Boyd, which is stupid, because he totally should have been ready for this. And now he's here and it's kinda hard to be quick on your feet when staring at a possibly dangerous Irish thug.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Danny demands, and okay, coming up with an answer might be good, Logan.

"Uh—" Logan coughs, nervously, then internally kicks himself for not being prepared. Oh. Wait. "Well, sir, my Scout leader has been on my back about selling these cookies, you know—"

"Are you trying to sell me Boy Scout cookies, boy? How old are you, 25?"

"Uh, 20, actually, but, look—you don't seem very interested, so I'll just be on my way." Logan starts moving down the stairs, but Danny grabs his arm roughly.

"Look, kid, I don't know who you are or why you're here, but you'd better—"

The punch that Logan throws cuts off the rest of Danny's sentence, so he has no idea what he'd better do, but he doesn't stop to think about it as he takes off down the stairs. He hears Danny shout behind him, but he figures he has a pretty good head start on him until—wham. The feel of the thug tackling him onto the lawn is so unexpected that Logan forgets to fight him off as he lands face first into the grass. His breath rushes out of him as his chest hits the ground, and he gasps once before twisting around just in time for Danny to catch him in the jaw with his fist. Logan reciprocates immediately, feeling the crunch of Danny's nose as blood gushes around his knuckles, and the thug cries out as he tries to fight the guy off of him. "Dude, get off me!" Logan shouts, because with the way Danny's positioned on him, it's really, really hurting his legs and he needs to move.

Danny's clutching at his nose and swearing, so he pushes up on his elbows and shoves him off his legs as hard as he can. Logan stands, but so does Danny, and he comes at him again, head-butting him in the stomach and knocking him to the grass once again. "Dude," Logan spits out angrily as Danny kicks him once in the side, but there's a sudden buzzing sound and Danny cries out, falling sideways onto the grass. Logan looks up to see Veronica fucking Mars brandishing her taser, and holy shit, is he pissed.

"What the fuck, Veronica?" he yells out as she grabs his arm and helps him to his feet. "What are you _doing _here?"

Veronica looks between him, her taser, and where Danny Boyd lays moaning on the grass before quirking her eyebrows in a, What do you think? manner. Logan sees red. "Get out of here, now!" Seeing that Danny's still slightly out of commission, he makes a split second decision and starts running towards the house.

The blonde stops him, though, grabbing his arm and tugging him sharply backwards. "Are you out of your mind?" she exclaims, eyes wide. "You're not seriously considering going in there, are you?"

"Veronica—"

"No! Seriously, if you're going in there, then I am, and I know you don't want that—"

"Jesus, Veronica, her mom could be in there!"

"And you could be killed in there! But hey, as long you don't mind a tag-along, be my guest, seriously."

"Dammit, fine! Come on! I'll go home."

"Uh-uh. You go first."

Glaring at her, Logan stalks to his car as she follows him, getting into her own car once he's inside his. She waits for him to pull away before following him to his house. Slamming out of his car, he turns to where she's standing in his driveway, fists clenched, small and defiant and Veronica. "Why did you follow me?" Logan demands, because he can be defiant, too.

"Why do you insist on asking stupid questions?"

"Dammit, Veronica! I told you—"

"And I told you you weren't going to stop me!" Her eyes are bright and blazing and her cheeks are red and God, he just wants to grab her and kiss her.

"God, you can't do this. You don't get to do this, okay? You have to stay away from me. You _have _to."

"Shouldn't you be thanking me? I saved your ass tonight, Logan."

"Yeah, well, thank you for completely ignoring me and putting yourself in danger when I specifically told you to _stay the hell away_."

"You're very welcome," she snarks.

"This isn't a joke, you stupid—"

"Oh, go ahead, Logan. Call me names. Let's be _mature _about this."

"I've tried being mature about it, and you still won't listen to me!"

"Okay, so does that tell you something? Maybe that I'm _not_ _going to listen to you_?"

"Veronica, please!"

"No, Logan." Her eyes are scanning his face, and they widen a little as they catch something. "Hey, you're bleeding."

"What?" Logan brings his hand up to his forehead, and his fingers come back red. "Oh."

"Let me see it," Veronica says, reaching up with her hands. He jerks away from her.

"No. Don't touch me."

"Logan, don't be stupid. Just let me—"

"No! I slept with Kendall." It bursts out of him in a rush, and he doesn't want to lie to her but fuck, she needs to _stay away. _And if anything's going to do it, it's this.

Yup. She pulls back as if burned. "You—what?"

"In LA. In July. I fucked her."

Veronica's eyes are wide and she's studying him fiercely, trying to read him, so he turns away from her. "O—Oh. But—you said you didn't remember."

"I lied." Fuck, this hurts. It's like someone's physically kicking him in the chest, over and over. He clenches his fists and wills his hands to stop shaking. Jesus, two more minutes and he's going to start crying like a fucking girl. But he guesses that that's what happens when you intentionally force your world to crumble around you.

"No, you—" But Veronica stops, and he's both grateful and devastated at the same time. "Oh."

He can't stop the next sentence from popping out. It's like a reflex. "I'm sor—"

"Don't." It sounds final and sad and it makes his heart crumble a little and fuck, she needs to go _right now _before he starts sobbing. And now Veronica's walking to her car and wow, she actually listened to his unvoiced thoughts, but dammit, he doesn't want to see her walk away, because that's it, then. He turns around and starts towards the front stairs but stops because his legs won't work right. He sits down at the top step and wraps his arms around his legs and leans against the door and the sob he'd been fighting back the whole time works it's way up and out of his mouth and God, this has to be what dying feels like, right? Because if dying is worse, then he wants to hurry up and get it over with already.

* * *

She's not in her car for two seconds before she realizes that he was lying. And she wants to kick herself for automatically believing the worst of him—when she knows him better. Knows that he's trying to push her away and trying to protect her and God, is she an idiot? She's just proving him right—proving that she won't stay if things get rough. And God, she hates it when he's right.

Without another thought, she opens her car door, jumps out, and whirls towards the house—and sees him. He's on the top step, arms around his knees, choking back sobs and she's never seen him look more devastated. And it kills her that she inadvertently caused this and she can't get to his side quick enough.

"No," he chokes out, but he's not fighting her as she pulls him against her and wraps her arms around his neck. Veronica rests her chin in his hair and whispers that she's sorry, and she just wants for him to be okay again, for him to be safe. He shakes his head against her, but he doesn't pull away, and they stay like that for a while, and she just holds him tighter every time another sob bubbles up from his stomach. Sifting her fingers through his hair, she closes her eyes and wishes that everyone else in this stupid world would just disappear, leave them alone, leave _him _alone, because it's not fair that bad people can be so happy and someone like him never gets the chance.

When his breathing is finally under control, Logan pulls away, but not quickly. He kind of eases himself out of her embrace and looks at her, eyes still shining, and they kind of look like chocolate stars. "Veronica, I love you, you know that, right?"

She nods and gives him a tiny, weak smile. "I love you too, Logan."

"That's why you can't—I can't lose you, you know? I can't. I keep saying it and you have to understand it."

"I understand it," Veronica says. And she does; she really does. She sees how heartbroken he is, how the thought of losing her makes him fall apart. She realizes that she has to give this to him now, has to give him some peace of mind, and maybe he'll actually sleep tonight. But that means he has to give her something, too.

So when she pulls him towards her and kisses him, she doesn't feel guilty about catching him off-guard. He owes her this, this night and this moment, and she's completely determined to collect.


	8. Part Eight

**Title:** To Be Broken  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Logan/Veronica, Keith  
**Word Count:** 2,105  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because Veronica _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** All aired episodes, to be safe, though nothing explicit. It's set in March of their second year at Hearst, so it's a slight future fic. New season 3 characters are pretty much non-entities in this, so don't worry about being spoiled about them. And…there's bad language. And quite possibly sex and violence in later parts.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. Please don't sue me.

**A/N:** Another short one—sorry. I had such high expectations for this chapter, but then I kept changing my mind and things wouldn't go the way I wanted them to—thus the shortness. But this is a huge turning point in this story—seriously, things just kind of explode from here. And, to be cryptic—things are totally not as they seem.

As for hints about the sequel, and the ending of this story—eh. You'll like it and you won't. Things are wrapped up even as they're left open, you know? It's kinda hard to explain. You might hate me for one thing, but you'll like me for another. Thanks for the feedback, and keep it coming.

**Part Eight**

He doesn't let the kiss get very far; she's pushing him up against the door, and he's thankful it's locked or else it'd probably open and scare the shit out of Hannah. He pulls away like it's the hardest thing he'll ever have to do and it kind of is, and he rests his forehead against hers and tries not to smile at her soft little groan of frustration.

"It's really late," he murmurs against her, and Veronica blinks up at him, slightly hurt.

"I've grown out of a curfew, Logan."

"I know, but—you're tired. You should go."

"I don't want to go." And he hears what she's not saying; she doesn't want to go because now everything's changed, and now, he might not be there for her to come back to.

"But you should." Logan kisses her lightly on the forehead, and she lets out this little sigh and God, does he love her.

Her hands are on his stomach, rubbing tiny little circles in his shirt, and he wishes they could stay here on his steps and not worry about Hannah or the Fitzpatricks anymore. She leans forward and kisses his shoulder and then rests her chin there, and when she speaks, her voice is slightly muffled. "They'll know about you now. They could come after you."

"I'll be okay. I promise." Only, he can't really promise her that, because he doesn't know that for sure. But it's the farthest thing from his mind right now; the closest getting her away. "Veronica, if you don't leave now, I'm not going to be able to let you go."

"I don't want you to." Her voice is small, like a little kid's, and he knows she's scared for him, but he's more scared for her.

"But I have to." He pulls back and looks at her, and he knows she understands when she nods. "Please, go."

"Okay," she whispers, but she leans in for another kiss, and he obliges, and it's not enough. He wants to pull her into the house—his car, up against that tree—and bury himself inside of her, feel every bit of her, just in case it's the last time. But Hannah's inside and his car would be cheesy and that tree looks uncomfortable. So he puts a bit more into that kiss and slides his tongue over her lips, and it's not enough, but it'll do for now.

He watches the silver of her SUV disappear into the night as she drives away from him.

* * *

Rilo Kiley tells her that she's barely alive and she wants to stab at the radio. She switches it off and drives on in silence. She thinks about Logan and his lips, his eyes and his hands and she wants to swing the car around, go back and clamp onto his arms and never, ever leave him again. Veronica tightens her hands on the steering wheel and keeps driving forward, because she's picturing him broken and sobbing on his steps and she hates being the cause of that.

It's just past 2 am and she doesn't think her father's home; she's hoping he's still in LA, because that would mean that the Kendall lead panned out and she needs for that to work. But the light is on in the living room and she knows then that he's home and waiting up for her, and she remembers about the promise she made him and realizes that she doesn't really care that much about breaking it. It was a stupid promise and she shouldn't have made it cause she can't stay away from Logan. It's just not in her.

Still, her stomach is sick with dread as she opens the door to her apartment and spots him on the couch. He stands up immediately and she knows he's pissed.

"I love how you keep your promises, Veronica," Keith bites out, and she sighs and braces herself.

"Dad, he needed backup. I just had to hear this from him, too, so I don't need you to lecture me." She pauses and decides he needs to know everything. "The Fitzpatricks know about him now."

Keith pales considerably, and in that moment, she realizes just how much he cares about Logan. It's not just because losing him would hurt his daughter—she knows it's more, knows that he genuinely cares about the boy as a person, not just as Veronica's boyfriend. Her heart swells a bit—she's so lucky to have a dad like him. "Oh, honey. I'm so sorry."

"I knew it had to happen eventually, I just didn't think—" She stops, then tries a different line of thinking. "No Kendall, huh?"

"No, sweetie, I'm sorry. Wherever she is, she's long gone from LA by now."

"Well, it was a long shot." She tries to play it off casually, but her voice breaks, and now she's sobbing, too, because there's no hope, now—no chance of getting him out of this in one piece. Keith crosses the room swiftly to her, and she doesn't want him to be the one holding her—but he'll do for now.

"Oh, God, Veronica, don't cry."

"I'm sorry," she chokes out. "I just—they're going to kill him, Daddy. He's not going to get out of this one."

"Don't apologize, sweetie, I understand—but you can't give up. There's still some time, I did some research—"

"There's no time!" she sobs. "They saw him, Dad. He—God, he's such an idiot, and he decked Danny Boyd in the face and tried to get into Kendall's house. It's not going to take Liam a second to make the connection between Logan and the Griffiths—and then they'll find him and kill him, and it'll be all over."

"Look, sweetheart, tomorrow, we'll go over to Logan's and bring him and Hannah here. We'll keep them safe, I promise. The Fitzpatricks won't look for him here."

"I just wish this had never happened—we were doing so good, Dad. I was going to—to move in with him and—" She breaks off into tears, and she notices the way his face tightens at the mention of moving into Logan's house, but she doesn't care. This is so far past his fears of losing his daughter to another guy—technically, she's already been lost.

"Honey, just calm down, okay? Everything's going to be alright." Keith guides her over to the couch and sits with her, staying with her and keeping silent until her sobs turn into choked hiccups and her tears lessen a bit. "I found some new information that you should hear about."

"What is it?" She doesn't dare get her hopes up yet, though, just braces herself for the impact of his words.

"I did some digging on Ian Fitzpatrick. Apparently, he's an altar server at St. Mary's."

Veronica's eyes widen. "That's Father Patrick's church. That's his older brother."

"I know. The thing is, he acts every bit the part of altar boy—he's saintly, Veronica. Not one misdemeanor or even a warning on his record. He's going to Neptune High now, and he's in the top ten percent of his class. From what I've gathered so far, this kid wouldn't hurt a fly."

"You don't know that," Veronica points out, keeping the bitterness out of her voice. "Even the sweetest guys can be monsters on the inside."

"True," Keith says. "But I've also been thinking. You said that Hannah's dad sent her away to Vermont so that she wouldn't see Logan anymore. If he's that protective of his daughter, why would he just hand her over to an 18-year-old thug?"

She shrugs. "He's still in their pocket, Dad. And he's not exactly a prime example of fatherhood right now."

"I get that, honey. But I just still can't see him willingly involving his daughter with that family."

"So, what? You think Hannah's lying? Why would she lie?"

Keith looks grim. "My gut is telling me that she _is_ lying. That she's made a mess out of her life, and she was afraid that if she told Logan the truth, he would turn her away."

"Logan would never turn her away. She's pretty much the reason he's not sitting in San Quentin right now."

"Right, but she didn't know that. Think about it. She's scared, pregnant, and completely alone. Her mother is stashed somewhere by a bunch of crazed Irish thugs who want ownership over her and her baby. Her father is gone. She's turning to the one person she thinks could help her—someone she hasn't spoken to or seen in two years. I can see why she might lie to get Logan to feel bad for her."

Veronica shakes her head. "Okay, so there are holes in Hannah's story. That doesn't help us at all. The Fitzpatricks still know Logan's involved, and he's still in danger. And they still have Hannah's mom; Logan's never going to let that go."

Her father looks hesitant now, like he doesn't want to say the next part. He takes a big breath in and lets it out slowly, and she's so busy trying to read him that she can't even imagine what he could be about to say. "Honey, I don't think—"

Loud, frantic pounding at the door cuts him off, and both he and Veronica turn towards it skeptically. Keith beats her in opening it by about a second, and Veronica feels her stomach clench with worry as she takes in Logan's scared face.

"What happened?"

* * *

He showers after she leaves, water pounding against his skin, so hot that it turns him slightly pink. He goes through the motions of getting dressed almost robotically, barely feeling the purple bruises blossoming over his side where Danny kicked him. He fingers them lightly before pulling a t-shirt over his torso. Then he brushes his teeth, flosses, and goes to check on Hannah.

The light is off in the spare bedroom, but the first thing Logan notices is that the door is open. Alarms go off in his head immediately, but it's not until he notices that the bed is empty that he really panics. Legs wobbly, he whirls around and checks his own bedroom—nothing. He races out into the hall and makes his way into the living room, then back into the kitchen—where the back door is wide open, swinging in the night breeze.

"Fuck," he whispers as fears grips his insides like a vice.

For a few, panic-stricken moments, he has no idea what to do. He's frozen in his kitchen, staring at that stupid back door. Then he's picturing those crazy-ass thugs busting into the house, grabbing Hannah and dragging her out of there—and he kicks the trash can over. What the _hell _is he supposed to do now?

Somehow, he finds himself inside his Range Rover, the glove compartment open—and he pulls out the gun he's kept and shoves it in there. Logan closes it up and places shaking hands on his keys and starts the car. He starts driving, not really knowing where he's going. But something keeps him from driving back to that house where he fought with Danny Boyd. He's picturing Veronica, heartbroken and tear-stricken, begging him not to go, to not get himself killed. So he goes with his second instinct—he drives to the Mars' apartment.

Logan thinks that this is a bad idea—worse, even, than facing down the Fitzpatricks and demanding Hannah and her mother from them. They're going to calm him down, force him to think rationally—and thinking rationally isn't something he's ready for yet. They're going to think of him first, keep _him _safe, and Hannah—Hannah will still be with those fucking assholes, and her baby will still be in danger and they're not going to let him get them back.

He almost turns the car around twice on the way to the apartment. He puts his turn signals on and then clicks them off while waiting at a red light. He feels another burst of anger shoot through him and punches his dashboard. Then he ignores his throbbing knuckles and keeps on driving.

Logan's not sure what he's going to do when they open the door—yell, cry, or collapse. He thinks of the Fitzpatricks and he thinks he could kill them, if he had the chance. If he has the chance—he might still have it.

When Veronica asks him what happened, he can't keep the anger, panic, fear and hatred out of his voice when he says, "Hannah's gone."


	9. Part Nine

**Title:** To Be Broken  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Logan/Veronica, Keith, Liam Fitzpatrick  
**Word Count:** 2,474  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because Veronica _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** All aired episodes, to be safe, though nothing explicit. It's set in March of their second year at Hearst, so it's a slight future fic. New season 3 characters are pretty much non-entities in this, so don't worry about being spoiled about them. And…there's bad language. And quite possibly sex and violence in later parts.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. Please don't sue me.

**A/N: **Okay, so, part nine. I kinda like how this one came out, and I wasn't expecting to, so now I know—set the bar low, Allie. Heh. Um, to answer some questions: 12 parts. That's a definite. So, yeah, we're almost done, which is kinda sad. Oh, and about Kendall—pretty sure I'm going somewhere with her, so just hang tight. Though it might not be with her physically. I kinda threw her in here—she wasn't in the original outline at all, but now I have a pretty good idea of where we're going with her. So you'll definitely find out about her soon, along with whether or not Hannah's lying, and how to follow those clues that were in the last part. Everything will be answered, I swear. Maybe not in 10, but 11 and 12, definitely. So, enjoy this one, and let me know what you think!

**Part Nine**

His hair is wet, but she doesn't find this out until later, when he's shivering in her bed and she's running her fingers through it.

Logan's pacing around their living room, bursting with anger and energy and she half-expects her father to make a crack about protecting their lamps except, no, he knows better. "Logan," she says slowly, wanting to reach out but afraid of setting him off. "We can't jump to the conclusion that they—"

"They have her!" he bursts, and the hatred infused in the word 'they' is enough to make her flinch, even though she knows it's not meant for her. "They have her, I know it. God, they probably have her and her mother locked up in that house—"

"You don't know that, Logan," Veronica protests. "And think of the timeline, okay? Just think about it. They wouldn't have time to follow us to your place and grab Hannah. It doesn't make sense. And Danny could barely stand when we left him, and he had no car—he would've had to call Liam and—"

"He could've seen us," Logan points out. "Liam could've seen us and followed us and grabbed Hannah while we were—were still out front." His voice shakes with something, grief or anger, she's not sure, and feels hurt stab at her as she gets the accusatory underlying meaning of his words.

Still, she _has _to calm him down, because Logan's never scared her more than now. Logan inadvertently throwing himself in the line of fire is dangerous. Logan purposely doing so in a fit of rage is deadly. For almost all parties involved. "We can't just go bursting into that house, guns a blazin', demanding Hannah and her mom back. We don't even know for sure if Hannah's there."

"Veronica—"

"Logan," Keith cuts in, voice steady and calm and strong, silencing him quickly. "There are some things you should know about Hannah."

And it's like someone flicking a switch in Veronica's head; of course Hannah left, because she lied, and because she's guilty and—oh. For the first time since this whole thing started, Veronica is really, _really _angry at Hannah.

But she has to be careful about telling Logan about all of this, because anything can set him off tonight—he's already fallen over the edge once tonight, and now he's hanging by a thread and it won't take much to do it again.

"What?" he demands, and his hands are flurrying around his stomach and man, does the boy ever stop moving? Not when he's like this, she knows.

She's hesitant, but one look from her father tells her that she needs to be the bearer of bad news—even though it's nearly impossible for her not be accusatory when this girl pretty much manipulated her boyfriend into ruining his life. "We think that—we think that Hannah might've lied about her rape."

His eyes flicker between Veronica and her father, and then narrow. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Logan, Ian Fitzpatrick is an altar-boy. He has no priors, nothing to suggest that—"

"So, what, altar-boys can't be rapists now?" he spits out. She cringes at that but keeps going.

"We also don't understand why Dr. Griffith would force Hannah to date Ian, if he was so protective of her—we know he sent her away to keep her from seeing you, why would he—"

"Because he's an _asshole, _that's why!"

"Logan," Keith puts in warningly, and he shoots him an annoyed glare.

"No, look. Not everybody lies and manipulates all the time, okay? Some people, they're just victims, and sometimes it's not their fault. Okay, yeah, maybe sometimes people ask for it, but Hannah—she's good, okay, and she wouldn't lie to me."

And Veronica knows that Logan has to believe this—can't let himself believe anything else. And he's not going to believe anything else, because he's so stubborn, and he always will be. So she sighs and gives up, because this is not going to make him see reason.

"Logan, you need to calm down," Veronica tells him, reaching a hand out. He swings himself out of her reach, and he looks trapped, then—furious and frustrated and scared out of his mind. She just wants him to feel better.

"No, I do not need to calm down. I need to find Hannah and get her kid away from that family. I need to bring her mother home to her. That's what I need to do."

She knows why he needs to do all this—he doesn't feel like he owes Hannah, he feels like he owes himself. But Logan can't go back in time and protect himself from his horror of a family. He can't bring his own mother home by bringing Hannah's. She wants to tell him that, wants to reach out and hold him and reassure him, but she can't. He's a second away from breaking open again and she thinks that her touch might do it. So she needs to get him under control.

"There's nothing we can do right now," Keith says stoically, and the look Logan shoots him could kill, and for a second he squares off against the older man, bracing himself like he's ready for a fight, and Veronica hates every single thing about this situation, this night and this whole week. But then Keith is softer and more calm, cool steel than a threat, and when he reaches out to lay a hand on the taller boy's arm, he flinches, but doesn't move away. "I'm serious. If the Fitzpatricks have Hannah, running over there tonight will do nothing but make the situation worse. You have to understand that they will not hesitate to kill you, Logan."

His mouth tightens indignantly. "God, I _know _that."

"Do you, Logan?" Keith demands. "Because right now, you're not making that very clear."

"Dammit, why do you think I came here?" Logan shakes his head, mouth curling up into a wry, twisted smirk. "Clearly, it was a mistake."

And now it's Veronica turn to see red. "Jesus, Logan, don't you get that we just care about you? Don't you get that we don't want you to get hurt?"

"And don't _you_ get that I can't let Hannah get hurt?"

"I'm worried about Hannah, too, Logan, but we don't know for sure that she's in danger. You, on the other hand, you're just asking for it."

"I'm always asking for it," he throws out and she can't even begin to decipher that statement. "But this isn't about me."

"You running over there in the middle of the night with nothing but some unadulterated rage and some strong will-power makes it about you! Getting yourself killed won't help Hannah, Logan."

"We all need rest," her father says firmly, and Logan looks like he wants to argue. "No, listen to me. Especially you. You need to get some sleep and wake up tomorrow with a clear head. I'd sedate you if I had the materials right now; I'm not going to let you throw this away on a rash, anger-fuelled decision. Is that clear?"

"But—"

"Is. It. Clear?"

"Yes," Logan practically growls, still seething. Veronica can see him sinking back into himself, climbing behind a shell and blocking the two of them out, leaving him with nothing but the turmoil that must be in his head.

"Come on, Logan," Veronica says softly, and this time, he lets her take his hand. "You're gonna sleep in my room with me, okay?"

Keith stiffens, but one pleading look from her softens him immediately. She needs him there, needs him next to her, breathing and living and solid and safe. She needs to be able to reach out and touch him and reassure herself that he's still there. It's only way she'll be able to breath, after seeing him like this tonight.

"Good night, Daddy," she tells him as she guides her boyfriend by the hand towards her room. Keith just swallows and nods, and Logan doesn't say anything, just lets him pull him along like a rag doll.

Logan makes no movement towards the bed, so she kicks off her shoes and slides in first, reaching out to grab his shirt and pulling him after her. He lays down on his back, stiff as a board, muscles coiled and tensed as if he's ready to take flight. She's not letting him fly anywhere anytime soon, so she snuggles into his side to keep him from leaving.

His sharp intake of breath is the only sign that she's hurting him, but she jumps up almost immediately. "Sorry," she whispers, and she lifts his shirt to inspect the bruises Danny left. She wants to kiss them, but doesn't want to hurt him again, so instead she clambers over his legs and moves into the bathroom. Her father is turning the light off in the living room and looks at her oddly and all she says is, "Bruises," as she wets a wash cloth with warm water.

Logan's lying in the same exact position on the bed, only he's pushed his shirt down. She tries not to roll her eyes as she pulls it up again and presses the warm cloth against the purple starbursts on his skin. He's practically rigid as she leans over him, and she feels tears prick her eyes because he's really, really stubbornly mad at her and she doesn't want him to be.

She spots the trickle of dried blood just under his hairline and wipes it away with the cloth. He refuses to look at her, but he won't close his eyes, either, even though they're hazy with drowsiness and he looks as though he wants to sleep forever and ever. She touches her fingers to his chest and realizes he's shivering slightly. She pulls the cover up his body and tucks it around the both of them, tossing the cloth on the other side of him onto the floor. He bites his lower lip and turns away, and a tear slips from one of her eyes and drops onto his shirt, leaving a sad little splotch on there, and he pretends not to notice.

Veronica lowers her face in slowly, tears still shining on her cheeks, and when he doesn't immediately move away from her, she places a feather-soft kiss on his cheek. He shifts ever-so-slightly, and she kisses him again, right under his eye. "Logan," she whispers, and he finally, finally meets her eyes.

She can't stop herself now, pressing swift, gentle kisses all over his face as she feels him finally relax under her touch. Her fingertips are putting the softest pressure imaginable on his chest, but they're there as if to tell her that he's still there, and he's not fading away into her sheets. Logan lets out this soft kind of whimper and reaches out to touch her face, wiping away a tear there. But he doesn't take control, doesn't pull her towards him to kiss roughly, because that's not what this is about. It's not about sex tonight—it's about reassurance, relief and security.

Finally, her lips reach his mouth and she presses them there, and it's lingering and meaningful but it doesn't heat up, doesn't darken his eyes and tighten her muscles. When she pulls away, he lets out this half-breath, half-sob and gazes up at her, even as his eyelids start to droop. She gives him a tiny smile and then slides down, resting her head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his stomach, careful to avoid the bruises.

She only lets herself drift off when she feels his breathing even out and she's sure he's asleep.

In the morning, the fact that Logan's chest is now soft and cushiony wakes her up, and she instinctively tightens her arm around him—coming up with nothing but air. Veronica blinks the sleep out of her eyes as she sits up, gazing around wearily—then launching herself out of the bed and out into the living room.

"Logan? Logan, no." Because there is no Logan—only her father, standing at the stove with a spatula. He starts a bit at the sound of her voice, turning around with a perplexed look.

"I thought he was still in there with you."

Biting down on her lower lip to keep the tears in, she shakes her head slowly as the realization sinks in. He's gone, he left her—and she doesn't want to forgive him for that. Logan never leaves, not even when he's supposed to, and that's what she loves about him. But now he's gone, probably about to be killed—and she has to get to him.

"We have to go," Veronica chokes out as Keith moves towards her, arms open—and he stops and nods, because he understands. Sometimes, you have to let people go, because they're asking for it. But sometimes, they're begging you to go after them, even if they don't realize it. And sometimes, they're really just victims, and they don't lie or manipulate—they just protect themselves, because they don't want to be victims anymore.

Veronica's not going to let Logan be a victim of this—not again.

* * *

Sitting in his SUV at 7:23 am, staring at a gun in his hands, it can be a pretty surreal experience. Sort of like being kissed to sleep by the most amazing woman in the world. It's like, how did this become his life? How did every moment lead up to this, this blip in history? Logan thinks it's kind of fucking funny, actually, though he can't really explain why.

Just like he can't explain why, when he's walking up the front stairs to Kendall Casablancas' old house, and when he's ringing the doorbell like he's really here to sell fucking cookies, he wants to laugh and laugh. He can't explain it at all. He thinks it might be like that rush he felt, that night on the bridge—laughing down at the waters that had claimed his mother, alcohol and bitterness pulsing through his veins. He laughed then, too, because death is so fucking easy—it shouldn't be so easy, it should be harder. He shouldn't be able to snap his fingers—pull a gun on an asshole thug—and set his death in motion. It shouldn't work that way.

Logan doesn't laugh, though, when Liam Fitzpatrick opens the door and smiles like he's been expecting him. Because there's nothing really funny about what he wants to do to this son of a bitch. He does grin, though, ridiculously, as he raises the gun so that it's level with Liam's face.

"I want Hannah and her mother back. Now."

Liam's mirrored grin is kinda funny. Just kinda.


	10. Part Ten

**Title:** To Be Broken  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Logan/Veronica, Keith, Sheriff Lamb, Deputy Sacks, Liam Fitzpatrick, Ian Fitzpatrick  
**Word Count:** 2,878  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because Veronica _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** All aired episodes, to be safe, though nothing explicit. It's set in March of their second year at Hearst, so it's a slight future fic. New season 3 characters are pretty much non-entities in this, so don't worry about being spoiled about them. And…there's bad language. And quite possibly sex and violence in later parts.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. Please don't sue me.

**A/N: **Really sorry for the delay for this chapter, I've just had a crappy couple of days—bad breakup, bad grade on a paper I worked hard on, set my microwave on fire—and I really didn't want to write anything depressing then. But, here's part ten, and yes, it's depressing, but…deal with it. Heh. It had to be. Anyway, I hope you like it, and thanks so much for all the feedback—you guys are awesome.

**Part Ten**

Fear is strange. It curls up inside you, seeps into your insides and your blood and throbs there until you think you might throw up. From the way her breathing is heavy and her chest is tight, it's like the fear wants to come bursting out of her. But it won't, not really, not until she sees Logan alive and healthy and okay. And since the chances of that happening are now slim to none, well—she hopes the fear's comfy in there, cause it looks like it's here to stay.

Veronica's biting her lower lip to keep from crying, because tears won't do Logan a bit of good and losing her shit now could cost him. As her father runs yet another stop sign, she finds herself gripping the car door tightly, but not because he's going too fast—he's going too slow, and the idea that they might not make it in time is paralyzing. Yet it's so, so real and so close and it's like—this can't be happening, not really, not to her, not to them. He can't really be doing this to her.

Keith sees her clenched hands, the white of her knuckles, but dares not slow down, because she thinks that might upset her more, and fuck, they're running out of time and is this even going to help? God only knows what kind of a head start Logan has on them—he could very well be dead in a ditch right now.

Kendall's house has never seemed so far away, and she imagines that the streets of Neptune are stretching out before them, elongating themselves just to piss her off and make her even more sick with dread. The ground hisses slightly under the tires of her father's car—it must've rained in the night, which Veronica thinks this is slightly appropriate. Her world is quite possibly ending, and damp earth and dirty asphalt is really the way to go for the apocalypse, she thinks. Except this is her apocalypse—there are very few other people in the world that would be too devastated over the demise of Logan Echolls. And no one would be as devastated as her.

Her dad looks like he wants to say something—he keeps glancing over, opening his mouth, and shutting it again. He won't lie to her, she knows, and tell her that everything's going to be okay. But she can tell he wants to.

"Almost there," he finally breathes out, and Veronica gives him a tight nod, as if speaking would break the dam inside of her. Keith brings his eyes back to the road and presses on the gas a little more.

As if on cue, a siren sounds from behind them, and Keith grits his teeth and swears. Veronica feels her stomach clench and she turns to her dad with pleading eyes.

"Dad, no, please—ignore them."

"Veronica, I'm not going to have them chase us all around Neptune. That won't help Logan. I'm sorry, sweetie."

She closes her eyes tightly and nods, trying to keep the panic away. Keith grudgingly pulls the car over to the curb, jaw clenched, and looks like he wants to punch a hole through his window as Sheriff Lamb leisurely gets out of a squad car and meanders over to Keith's door. Veronica understands that urge; she can't unclench her fists, no matter how hard she tries.

"You know, Keith, I really, really don't like to make traffic stops before I've had my coffee, but you were going so far over the speed limit—"

"Listen to me, Don. There's an emergency. Logan Echolls—"

"Oh-ho, this should be good. What's that little delinquent done now? I'd really just love to have him back in my station, he's such a pleasure."

Keith glares up at Lamb's smug face, and Veronica bits down on her tongue to keep from screaming at the prick. "Yes, Don, Logan is a very pretty boy, I know, but if you could get over your little crush long enough to understand that he's going to get himself killed unless I get there and stop him—" Keith stops, shaking his head and sighing at the sight of Lamb's shit-eating grin not wavering from his face. "You know what? Forget it. Just give me a damn ticket and let me go. This is a waste of time."

"Wow, Keith, it's almost like you aren't happy to see me."

"Goddammit, Lamb, just give me the ticket, now."

"Well, since you asked so nicely—I might have to just take my time on that—"

"You asshole!" Veronica suddenly shrieks, startling both her father and Lamb. Lamb opens his mouth indignantly but she just continues. "You fucking moron, he's going to die, do you not get that? He's there now and the Fitzpatricks are going to _kill him _and it will be your fault. And do not think for a second that I won't make you pay for it. Do you understand me?"

Lamb looks livid, but also slightly curious, and when he speaks, he speaks directly to Keith in a low, serious voice. "Okay, tell me what's going on. Now."

* * *

"So," Liam drawls, the smirk not leaving his face as he backs into a room that's filled with guys. The men grow quiet at the sight of Logan's gun, and a few stand up, but nobody moves except for Liam and Logan. "You must be the bitch's new baby daddy."

"Where is she?" Logan bites out, fighting to keep the gun steady in his hand.

"Wish I could tell ya, kiddo. Don't know. But what I do know is that she's running around, knocked up with my brother's kid, and you're here butting into it. That's not gonna work too well for me."

"I really don't give a fuck. Nor do I believe you. Tell me where Hannah and her mother are."

Liam's grin does not fade, at all. He still looks completely and utterly amused by the situation, as if he's convinced that Logan's pointing a water gun at him. He feels his throat constrict at the idea of proving that this gun is not, in fact, filled with water, but he pushes that fear aside and concentrates on the anger coursing through him. That's what got him in here the first place, and he'll be damned if he's going to let it abandon him now.

"I'll say it again, boy. I don't know where that bitch is. Now, her mommy, on the other hand—she's a very pretty lady—"

"Tell me where they are, now!" Logan shouts, trying to sound demanding. A few thugs chuckle, and he feels his heart pound a little bit. Okay. So maybe this wasn't the best idea in the world.

"Not happening."

"No, what's not happening is you walking away from here without a bullet inside you if you don't tell me, now."

"Oooh, you're a scary one." Liam smirks even wider, and the group chuckles some more. Logan grips the gun tighter as one of them moves towards Liam.

"Dammit, Liam, let's just back off, okay?" the guy says, and Logan realizes that he's young, just a kid, probably still in high school—fuck. That's him.

"Awe, how sweet, little brother. Sorry. No can do." Liam claps Ian on the back once, and he feels that anger pump through him. There it is. He'd missed it. There's no fear now, not anymore. This is the fucker that raped Hannah. This is the one who started all this, caused all this. He's the reason. Logan finds himself turning the gun on him without even being consciously aware of doing so.

"You," Logan breathes out. "It was you, wasn't it? You're the one who—"

"Don't you point that thing at him, kid," Liam cuts in, and now his voice is deadly serious, and his smirk is turned to glass, frozen and cutting and completely lethal. He moves in front of his brother, and Logan feels his hand twitch again.

"I didn't want this to happen," Ian suddenly throws out, and Logan pushes aside the fact that the kid is near tears. "I didn't want any of this, God."

"Where's Hannah?" Logan demands again.

"Fuck, I told you, she's not here." Liam has his arms behind him, trying to cover Ian completely and push him back. The kid doesn't budge, though, just stares over his brother's shoulder at Logan, eyes wide and fearful.

"And I told you that I will fucking shoot you if—"

"Kid, you pull that trigger and I promise you it will be the last thing you ever do," the thug swears.

Logan feels a rush go through him, and it's like he's up on the Coronado Bridge again, staring down at the water and about to step over it. Death doesn't scare him, not at all; what he's scared of is not making things right while living. He feels a smirk curl around the edges of his mouth, and now he's no better than Liam fucking Fitzpatrick, but whatever. He clicks a bullet into place. "Well I promise you, it'd be so fucking worth it."

"No, God!" Ian bursts out, voice high with panic. "Listen, you don't need to do this, okay? I don't want that kid, you can have it. I just wanted this to be over."

"Shut the fuck up, Ian," Liam practically growls, and Logan smiles wider.

"You know, you should listen to your little brother, Liam. He's pretty damn smart. You don't need that kid, and you don't need Hannah or her mother. Just leave them the fuck alone, and we can all walk away from this."

"Right. Because I'm gonna let some spoiled rich boy play super daddy to my flesh and blood." Liam smiles at him. "You'll have to shoot me."

"Happy to," Logan says, and he's not prepared for the blow to his head that comes from behind, but it knocks him sideways. The gun clatters to the ground, useless, and he barely has time to register the pain in his head before they're grabbing him up, hauling him to his feet and tossing him into a nearby table. Laughter bursts through the room as he cries out upon impact, clutching at his side as he tries to regain his balance. Someone kicks his legs out from under him, and he's on his knees when they shove him all the way down. Spitting out blood, he tries to roll out of their grasp, but they're pinning him down, and fuck, there's Danny Boyd, nose crooked and eyes blackened, his boot pressing into Logan's stomach painfully.

He gasps for breath, blinking up at them, trying to figure out how this happened so quickly. And then he sees Liam picking up the gun and appearing somewhere by his legs, pointing it down at him, and he almost laughs as he realizes. Oh yeah, you were a fucking moron, that's how it happened so quickly.

And now Logan's struggling again, because maybe he is a little afraid of death, and Danny laughs and removes his foot from his stomach and puts it on his wrist. He cries out as he feels it crack under the weight, and he's still reeling from the excruciating pain of that injury when the shot sounds and his chest goes up in flames.

"See, kid," Liam drawls casually as he feels air rush out of him. "This is what happens when you fuck with my family. And play with guns." Logan opens his mouth, like he's actually going to retort something, but he chokes as blood rushes up his throat and spills out the side of his mouth. He gags on it, feels his head getting lighter and fuzzier, and his lungs don't appear to be working anymore and that's rather bothersome.

He's not sure why the Fitzpatricks suddenly scatter, because everything sounds far away, but then he hears the siren and he thinks, Oh. He thinks that Veronica probably figured out he had left and fuck, she probably hates him now but whatever, he's dying soon anyway. But that doesn't seem to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes as he thinks about her and how he's leaving her, had practically run away from her. He's an idiot, he realizes. But he's sorry, because Hannah's still missing and so is her mom and he didn't even get to shoot Liam, and it was really all for nothing.

A freckled, young face he recognizes as Hannah's rapist appears above him, and he thinks about how odd that is, until the kid's hands are suddenly pressing into his chest and okay, that makes more sense, he's just speeding up the dying process. Logan squirms to get out from under this kid's hands, but he barely has the strength to keep his eyes open anymore, so he just wheezes heavily at Ian, attempting to sound threatening. But Ian's telling him things in an urgent kind of voice, and it kinda sounds like he's coaching him to breathe, but that makes no fucking sense at all, so whatever. He's tired. He wants to sleep.

He thinks about how pissed Veronica will be at him, and he fights against the black haze that's pressing down on him for a second, then realizes it's useless, it's just too fucking late. He can hear Ian yelling at him to stay awake, but he ignores that, because it makes no sense, and he lets himself fade.

* * *

The shot echoes through the morning air as they turn around the corner, and Veronica feels the bottom drop out of her stomach. Keith swears from the driver's seat, and she ridiculously considers the fact that this is the most she's ever heard her father curse in one day, and it's not even 9:00 am yet. Then she chastises herself for thinking about stupid things and concentrates on Logan. Oh, God, Logan.

The car pulls to a halt and her father looks at her closely for a second. "Stay here," he says, and she nods because if she doesn't, he won't go in there, and Logan, God, he could be dead now, he needs to get in there. Keith exits the car and runs up the stairs, Lamb right behind him, guns drawn. Sacks follows, barking into his radio for backup, and Veronica waits until he's almost to the door before bursting out of the car and following the men up there.

The siren seemed to have scared the Fitzpatricks away; she can see a bunch of them fleeing out the back door, and Lamb goes chasing after them. She turns in a hallway and looks in an open doorway and oh, God, her father's kneeling over a still body, blood shining on the floor around him, a teenage boy crouched on the other side of him. She moves without really realizing she's moving. A scream issues from somewhere in the room as she confirms that the figure is, in fact, Logan, and then she realizes the scream came from her. Keith looks up at her and says, "Veronica," but she can barely hear him, doesn't look at him. Then she's on her knees next to Logan and there's so much blood and oh God, he's dead already, isn't he?

"Logan," she murmurs, leaning in close to his face like she did last night. "Logan, no, please—" A sob works it's way through her body, and Keith is talking to her, but she can't hear him. "Logan, wake up."

And then he lets out this strangled, coughing noise and it's the most beautiful thing she's ever heard because, Jesus, he's alive. Blood is pouring out of his chest and his mouth and that's scaring the shit out of her, but he's alive.

"Logan," she says, unable to keep from smiling at him through her tears. Logan struggles to open his eyes to look at her, and then he moans and squirms and she just now notices the kid with his hands pushing down on the gushing chest wound. Her eyes widen and she feels a rush of anger and her hands flail out to try and bat his hands away. "Stop it, you're hurting him."

"I'm trying to stop the bleeding," the kid says, and he looks up at her with wide, sad eyes and she sees tear tracks on his face. She has no idea who he is or what he's doing there but Logan chokes again and she immediately snaps her attention to his face, leaning in close again.

"Logan, it's okay. You're going to be okay." Veronica grabs his hand and squeezes it and he closes his eyes again, lips pressed together from pain, and she looks over and sees his swollen wrist and she lets out another sob. She feels him squeeze her hand lightly, just the slightest amount of pressure, but it's enough to make her start crying fully.

And she leans in close and she whispers, "I'm here, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Not ever. And neither are you."

And she thinks he nods but she can't really tell because he's not really breathing anymore and that's making her breathing stop, too.


	11. Part Eleven

**Title:** To Be Broken  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Logan/Veronica, Wallace, Keith, Hannah  
**Word Count:** 3,190  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because Veronica _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** All aired episodes, to be safe, though nothing explicit. It's set in March of their second year at Hearst, so it's a slight future fic. New season 3 characters are pretty much non-entities in this, so don't worry about being spoiled about them. And…there's bad language. And quite possibly sex and violence in later parts.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. Please don't sue me.

**A/N: **Longest chapter yet, hee. Also: answers, anyone? Some of them, but not all of them. Obviously, they're all coming next chapter, everything. Pretty sure there's gonna be flashbacks to answer the questions—it's hard to be expository for some of this stuff while everything else is going on, you know?

Thank you to everyone who offered their sympathy about my bad week—it's so appreciated, you have no idea. Seeing as my real friends' reactions have been mostly, He's a jerk, get over it, having support from total strangers felt good. I'm not feeling as emo as I was yesterday, which is probably what's keeping me from bursting into a rant about my relationship woes, but this chapter is still kinda sad…I think I'm just a sad writer, you know? Sorry, heh. Anyway, thanks again, and I'll see you next time for the wrap-up…-tear-

**Part Eleven**

The once dark red stains on the knees of her jeans are turning brown now, drying up and it's Logan's blood and it's on her hands and the kid's hands and her father's hands. And Liam's hands, too, and Lamb's and Hannah's, but that's the more figurative kind. She's staring at the blood stains like they're the most amazing things she's ever seen, and who knows, maybe they are. Because it'd be amazing if that much blood could come out of Logan and he could still be alive. A fucking miracle, if you will, except Veronica doesn't believe in those, so she has to settle for amazing. Logan can do amazing.

The hospital is chilly, and the chair she's sitting in is stiff, and she wants to know why she isn't more prepared for this. This whole thing, this whole situation, has led up to this, her sitting in a waiting room after watching way too much blood poor out of her boyfriend as he struggled and failed to breath. She wants to know if they've fixed that breathing thing yet, but then she's afraid to ask, because what if the answer's no? The kid had tried to explain some of it to her before, while they were loading him into the ambulance.

"His right lung is collapsed," the kid said, and Veronica's eyes widened in fear until he put a hand lightly on her arm. "No, it's okay. That's treatable. But it's why he couldn't breath. They're going to have to intubate; he might need surgery, too, but that probably won't be too serious. I also saw an exit wound in his back, so the bullet's not still inside of him. The thing he needs to worry about most is the blood loss."

Veronica gaped at him dazedly, then sputtered out, "How—"

The kid shrugged. "I want to be a doctor."

"Who _are _you?"

But the kid was dragged off and handcuffed by Lamb before he could tell her, and Veronica had been led to her father's car and they followed the ambulance and she forgot about the kid because Logan could be dying in that ambulance. From the blood loss, not the collapsed lung, apparently.

Her father and Lamb are off somewhere, and Wallace is supposed to be on his way here to sit with her, but he hasn't shown up yet, which she's grateful for, because what is she supposed to say? What is he supposed to say? All she wants is for a doctor to come out and tell her that he'll be okay; but there was so much blood, and not enough of it in Logan's body, and it's just so hopeless right now.

And she should be prepared for this, dammit. This whole thing, from the breakup to now, has been leading up to this, her waiting here, and it was like watching a car crash happen, so inevitable it was sad and funny at the same time. She feels like she's just been watching it, a mere spectator as she watched the disaster, and of course she feels that way because now _this _has happened and it's exactly what she didn't want to happen. And she should be prepared for this, but denial is a happy, sparkly thing and she quite likes it most of the time. Except when it gets her here and guilty and anguished, and she can't seem to deny anymore that Logan might die. That Logan probably will die.

Veronica can't keep fighting when it's only up to him fight, no matter how much she wants to.

Wallace is beside her suddenly, hugging her and when did he get here? She's barely responsive, doesn't cling to him for support and comfort like she might have otherwise. Because there's only one person she wants to support and comfort her right now, and he's in surgery.

"I guess there's no news yet, huh?" Wallace says, and he's trying to sound somber but still trying to make her feel better and it doesn't come off too great on him. She thinks he should just be Wallace, but she doesn't have the energy to tell him that, so she just looks at him sadly and that's his answer.

"Hey, pains like him don't go away, V. He'll be fine." And it's so cliché and tired that she hates it, but he's only trying to make her feel better, so she doesn't say anything.

"There was too much blood," is what Veronica says, and Wallace looks like he doesn't really know what to say to that, but he's so sweet for trying.

"But, you know, they can give him more blood, right? I mean, they can do that, and then he'll be okay."

"I—there was so much, Wallace. And his lung—God, the kid said it collapsed—"

"What kid?"

"I don't know, this kid that was there, I don't know who he—" And suddenly, she gasps, because she's just figured out who he was. "Oh my God, it was him."

"What? Who?"

"He was Ian; he must've been. Oh my God."

"I don't know—"

But Keith shows up then, shoulders slumped and weary, eyes sad as he makes his way to his devastated daughter. "Any news on Logan, honey?"

Veronica closes her shining eyes as she shakes her head. "He's—he's still in surgery, I think. They haven't told me anything."

Keith nods somberly and runs a hand over his head, sitting down on Veronica's other side. Wallace seems to sense something and suddenly he's on his feet. "I think I feel like some sugar. You guys want anything?"

"I'm good, thanks, Wallace," her father says, and she just shakes her head, because he can't give her what she wants.

Wallace is halfway down the hall when Keith starts to update her. "Lamb caught Liam, Danny and a few others. They're all being charged with aggravated assault, mostly due to Ian's statement."

"Liam was the one that shot him, right?" He nods, and Veronica feels anger boil in her veins. "Did he—did he break his arm, too? God, why couldn't they just—just leave him alone?"

"Veronica, Logan—Logan walked into this one. Liam shot him with his own gun." Veronica starts at this, tears rolling down her cheeks and she doesn't bother to suppress them.

"Oh—Oh God, I didn't even know he had a gun." She puts her face in her hands and feels Keith touch her back lightly.

"I know, honey, I didn't either. But, according to Ian's statement, Logan was using the gun to try and get Liam to give up Hannah and her mother. Liam refused, and the Fitzpatricks ganged up on Logan. They held him down while Liam took the gun and shot him."

Veronica presses her palms into her eyes and sniffs before looking up at him. "Ian—he was there, right? He was the kid that was trying to help him?"

"Yes, he was there. And he—he gave us a lot of information."

"If we can believe him," Veronica says, but Keith's looking at her with this resigned, sad look that tells her that yes, they can believe him.

"According to him, he never raped Hannah. They started going out when she came home for the summer—willingly. They broke up sometime in July, after—well, they had an argument. And they ignored each other until a little later, when Hannah found out she was pregnant. She—she told him that she wasn't sure if he was the father, it was either him or—or someone else. He doesn't know who. Ian went to Father Patrick for advice, and Liam found out about the baby. As far as Ian knows, Thomas Griffith did run off, and he knows that Liam has Hannah's mother somewhere, but he doesn't know where."

Veronica finds herself glaring at Keith, not so much angry at him, but angry at everything. "And again, how do we know that Ian isn't lying?"

Keith sighs heavily, and he looks even sadder, and like he's completely dreading what he's going to say next. "Honey, yesterday, I was going to tell you, but then Logan showed up. At her sixth month of pregnancy, Hannah had a paternity test done, with Ian's DNA. He isn't the father of her baby, Veronica. And Hannah knows it."

And the anger's not just boiling now—it's exploding. She wants to find Hannah and deck her. She wants to hit Logan for trusting so easily, throwing everything away for a lying bitch who—God, it doesn't even make sense. Why would Hannah lie to him? Why not just tell the Fitzpatricks that Ian wasn't the father? It makes no sense at all. "But Dad, I don't get it. What was the point of lying to everybody? I mean, I get it was to make us feel bad for her—and she did need help, okay, I get that. But why lie and say that Ian was the father when she knew he wasn't? And why not find the real father and get him to help, instead of Logan?"

And Keith just looks sadder and sadder, and he sighs again and looks like he really, really doesn't want to answer her, and he _knows _something that he's not going to tell her, and that pisses her off like nothing else. "I don't know, honey. That's something we'll have to ask Hannah. If we can find her. Ian's pretty certain that the Fitzpatricks don't have her—the cops turned that house upside down, and no sign of her or her mother. They're searching some other houses now, and they'll send us word if they find anything, but it's looking more and more like Hannah's run away."

Veronica's fingernails are making indents in her palms, and she has this unbelievable urge to kick things. Logan was shot, for absolutely nothing. Nothing was gained and nothing was solved and Hannah's probably halfway to fucking Mexico by now or something, because she's a coward and she's abandoning both her mother and Logan. Logan, who took her in and was completely willing to give up everything for her. Yeah, that Logan. Veronica hopes she never sees that girl again, because she can't trust herself not to hurt her. Very badly.

And she promises herself then that she's never, ever going to run away. Not ever. And if Logan gets out of this, she's not going to be mad at him—she's going to stick by him, and not out of obligation, but out of need and love, because that's how you love people—you stay with them and you fight for them and with them and you protect them. And you let them protect you. And you never, ever run away, because that's what cowards do—that's what Hannah does, that's what alcoholic mothers do—and she'll never do that to him.

Maybe Logan did ask for this, and maybe he walked into this and he was selfish and rash and it's his fault, really, that she's this miserable. But she finds that she doesn't really care, not at all. He can hate her and push her away and disappoint her over and over, and she'll still just be grateful that he's alive. Because right now, that's all she can ask for, and that's all she's going to ask for, and it's all that matters to her. Veronica loves Logan, and she's not planning on stopping that anytime soon.

And she finds she's not thinking about the possibility of him dying anymore—and that's good, because it means that somehow, she got some hope back. She's not sure how it happened—maybe it was the anger—but she's glad it did, because now, she turns to a returning Wallace and attempts to crack a smile at him. "So, whose blood do you think he's going to get? Knowing this town, someone screwy, right?"

Wallace sees the attempt at lightening the mood and letting her hope shine through, but Keith sticks out his arm to her before he can answer. "Possibly mine. We have the same blood type, so I donated some. Lamb did, too, actually. You know, I think he might _really _have a crush on Logan."

Her best friend grins and chuckles. "Well, it makes sense. All the time Logan's spent down there with him—you get to know a person that way, you know?"

"Oh God, that's just wrong." Veronica mockingly groans, and her voice is weak and thick with tears, still, but her heart isn't so heavy anymore, and she loves these people so much for doing that. She touches her father's arm lightly, where there's a band-aid covering where he had the blood drawn. "Thank you so much, Daddy."

"It's okay, sweetheart. I mean, I know my blood is pretty special, but I've got a lot of it, and Logan seems pretty worthy."

"Damn, now you sound like Logan himself," Wallace says. "Pretty soon you'll be bragging about your amazing surfing abilities and your unbelievable wit and charm."

"The boy does have a way with words," Veronica tells him, smiling slightly as she thinks about it. "And come on. He totally charmed your mother that time we had dinner with her."

"Yeah, more like kissed her ass. 'Oh, Mrs. Fennel, these potatoes are _amazing. _I haven't had a home-cooked meal in forever.' I think she wanted to adopt him by the end of the night."

Veronica grins even wider at that. "Well, he's just so cute and cuddly; of course she wanted to adopt him. You love him, too, Wallace, just admit it."

"Right. Like I love getting hit in the head."

In the end, the mood stops being so light when a doctor fails to find them and give them news. Keith winds up going to the nurse's station three times, demanding information, and it isn't until Veronica ambushes an already nervous-looking intern that they get results; a doctor in blood-spattered scrubs appears in the waiting room looking for them, and Veronica wants to cry with both relief and fear.

"Are you family?" the doctor asks, and she wants to scream and hit him, but that might not get info out of him, and the intern down the hall looks scared enough.

Keith answers before she can come up with an adequate threat. "Yes. We're his family." And her heart swells unbelievably, and she knows it was kinda corny but it makes her so damn happy.

Doctor Asshole (and God, isn't that such a Logan-nickname for someone? He's had such an influence on her. If he were Hispanic, she'd probably call him Paco.) blinks at Keith, Veronica and Wallace for a second before sighing and looking at his chart. "Mr. Echolls is out of surgery and is resting in Recovery right now. He received one blood transfusion during the surgery and is receiving another one right now to offset the blood loss. He's stable now, and the first transfusion helped, but the second should confirm a full recovery. We also set his wrist and got someone from Ortho to put a cast on it, and we repaired the damage to his lung. We have him on oxygen, and we'll be keeping him here for a few days to monitor his breathing and make sure there's no lasting damage."

Veronica's head is spinning, and Doctor Asshole's telling her everything but what she needs to hear. "So, he's going to be okay?"

"Yes, it looks that way. He lost a huge amount of blood, and had he lost anymore, he probably wouldn't have lived. Whoever helped him at the scene probably saved his life." He looks between the three relieved faces for a minute, before turning to Keith. "There are some insurance issues that need to be worked out, if you could help—"

"Logan keeps his insurance information at his house, Dad," Veronica cuts in, and she's babbling nonsensically because she's not sure what else to do. Logan's going to be okay and that's amazing but she's not sure where to go from here. "Could you—"

"I'll go get it," he says without letting her finish, and he shakes the doctor's hand before he leaves, not because he wants to, she knows, but because he's polite. Veronica turns a heated gaze to the doctor.

"Can I see him?"

"He's pretty out of it—"

"Can. I. See. Him?"

Doctor Asshole sighs tiredly. "Fine. Follow me. Try to keep him calm, though. We don't want to increase his heart rate anymore."

"I won't, I promise."

Doctor Asshole leaves them inside Recovery, and Wallace stays back as a nurse comes over and leads Veronica over to a curtain at the far end of the ward. She feels her breathing hitch slightly as she sees Logan, pale and small in the bed, and it's almost too much; if the nurse hadn't seated her in the chair by the bed, she thinks she might've fallen over. She starts crying again, and she's been crying way too much lately, but just _looking _at him, so weak and vulnerable, it's still unreal to her. And maybe she should've been prepared for this, but she's not, and that's hard. Seeing him like this—she just wants to make him better, protect him and fix him and save him, and there's not much she can do to do any of that, and she's too late for it.

So she puts her head down near his good hand and she sobs into his skin and she doesn't want to upset him but he was _fucking shot _and he nearly died and she's allowed to do this. And she can't make anything better for him right now, and when he wakes up he'll probably be in pain and she doesn't want that for him but there's nothing she can do. So she's allowed to do this.

She doesn't know how long it is before she feels his fingers moving in her hair, and when she snaps her face up he's blinking groggily at her, and for a brief, terrifying minute she thinks he doesn't recognize her. And then pain floods his eyes as he sees her tears, and Logan swallows hard and grips her hand as tightly as he can, which isn't very tight and makes her want to sob some more. "I'm—I'm so sorry," he whispers miserably, but she just shakes her head at him and lets out another sob. And then she's launching herself forward and burying her face into his shoulder, crying into his neck, and his arm is around her and she's thinking that maybe they'll be okay.

Veronica wasn't prepared for this, but she's starting to think that that might be okay.

* * *

When he pulls into Logan's driveway and gets out of the car, she's there—of course she is. Hannah's sitting on his front steps, clutching at her stomach, and she heaves herself to her feet when she sees Keith.

"I came back as soon as I heard," she tells him tearfully, and Keith sighs.

Of course she did.


	12. Part Twelve

**Title:** To Be Broken  
**Author:** Allie  
**Pairing/Characters:** Logan/Veronica, Hannah, Ian, Keith, Liam  
**Word Count:** 4,072  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Logan thinks it's over, but it's only just getting started, because Veronica _will _find out what's going on with him, and she will help him fix whatever it is, and she will get him back.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** All aired episodes, to be safe, though nothing explicit. It's set in March of their second year at Hearst, so it's a slight future fic. New season 3 characters are pretty much non-entities in this, so don't worry about being spoiled about them. And…there's bad language. And quite possibly sex and violence in later parts.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars or the characters. Please don't sue me.

**A/N: **Whoa. Apologies for the supreme length of this part. I just couldn't stop, heh. But, yeah, this is the end of the line for this story. But don't worry, I'm not disappearing. Canon is probably going to continue to piss me off for a while, so I'll have no choice but to crank out pretty, mature future-fics in which everything goes the way I want it to. Or, sort of. I already have this fantastic idea for a brand-spanking new future-fic that has absolutely nothing to do with this story, as well as the sequel, and three interrelated one-shots that might pop out pretty quickly.

Anyway, thanks so much for everyone's continued support through this story—you guys made my first VM fic experience so incredibly awesome, thank you so much for that. I couldn't have asked for better feedback, and you guys rock, so don't forget it. And, um…enjoy it, 'tis a long one.

Oh! Flashbacks are in italics.

**Part Twelve**

"You don't have to do this," Logan tells her pointedly. "Doctor Asshole said I was fine. I can go home." He tries to grab her hand, but she bats it away and ducks her head to hide the hurt that flashes over her face. She grips her comforter and sheets tightly and draws them up over Logan's chest, careful to avoid his bandages, and tucks them around his shoulders. He looks like such a little boy like that, and once again, she's feeling emotional, and how stupid is that? He's fine, she tells herself. He's better than fine. He's being a jackass again. That's how fine he is.

"Right. And I'm supposed to trust you to just rest and relax at home? Please. You're staying right where you are." Veronica gently picks up his injured wrist and props it up on a pillow beside him. He smiles up at her.

"Okay. I guess it's not so bad here." She's unable to keep from smiling back as she leans in and helps herself to a kiss. Logan's more than happy to oblige.

* * *

_Hannah giggles as Ian swings their hands back and forth between them, moving away from her car as the valet guy drives away with it. She eyes the hotel they're standing in front of and grins brilliantly. "Ooh, fancy," she says breathily, and Ian grins proudly._

_Still entwined tightly, they make their way into the hotel, nearly oblivious to everyone around them. This week is about them, they'd decided, not about her father or his brothers or Neptune. They'd gone away to get away from all of that, and now, they refuse to think about it. At least, Hannah does._

"_Ian, are you sure you can afford this?" Hannah wants to know as they make their way to the front desk._

_He shrugs. "I can't. But Liam can. He gave me this credit card, told me to have you sign for it. Just copy the signature on the card. I didn't really want to, but you know Liam; wouldn't let up about how I have to spoil you and treat you right."_

_Hannah giggles again; she quite likes being spoiled. "Well, Liam's right. Give me the card."_

_She feels mischievous and daring as she signs the woman's name on the receipt. The receptionist smiles at her as she hands over the key cards. "Welcome to the Hilton Los Angeles. Please enjoy your stay, Miss Banks."_

* * *

"I'm sorry," he says, moving so that he can look over to where she's standing at her desk, rearranging the bowl of soup and crackers that she's placed a on tray. She doesn't answer him as she makes her way over to her bed, setting the tray down and helping him sit up. It's not until the tray is placed in his lap that she looks up into his solemn brown eyes.

"Stop apologizing, okay? I know you're sorry. It's okay, Logan. You're okay, and I'm okay, and that's all that matters."

"No," he says, shaking his head, voice thick with emotion. And Veronica looks into his eyes and sees all that guilt there. And she wants it to fade, wants it to go away, because she's not mad at him. She understands perfectly why he did everything that he did. And she might've been angry at him before, but how can she still be angry when she's just so happy he's alive? "I hurt you, Veronica. I hurt you really bad, and I scared you, and I can't stand that. And now you're being amazing and taking care of me and—I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you."

Veronica reaches over and places her palm on his cheek gently. She feels him shiver slightly under her touch, and she runs her fingers over his cheekbone. "Don't say that, okay? You deserve me, and I deserve you, and that's just how it is. And you may not realize it, but you've been making it up to me by just letting me do this—letting me take care of you and protect you like I couldn't before." Logan opens his mouth in protest, but she shushes him. "No, Logan, don't argue, okay? You've done nothing but argue with me since this started, and for once, I want you to be on my side." The words aren't bitter; they're just resigned, and truthful. He's studying her face like it needs to be translated to him, and again, she wants to just crawl inside of him and fix him so that he doesn't ever feel bad, feel wrong or sad or pained.

She can't, though, so when he nods and gives her a small, unsure smile, she returns it and starts trying to help him fix himself the only way she can. "Okay, buddy. Open up. Do you prefer airplane noises or choo-choo trains? Cause I can totally do both."

When he laughs, her heart feels lighter.

* * *

"_Are you okay?" Ian asks, and she's touched by his concern, but it doesn't really stop the nervousness. _

"_Yeah," Hannah tells him, even though she's very, very far from okay. _

"_We—we don't have to do this, if you don't want to," he tells her, and her heart swells again, because how did she get this lucky to have a guy this sweet?_

"_I want to," she says, except she doesn't, not really, and he kinda knows it, because he fixes her with a pointed stare. "Ian, our first time together was a drunken haze that I barely even remember. I want to do this right. You know I do." _

"_I—we can wait, okay? It's okay, Hannah. We don't have to do anything now. I don't want you to do this if you're not ready."_

_And this kinda pisses her off, because who said she's not ready? She's not 12; she's nearly 18, and she wants to have sex the right way, and she's ready. She lets him know this by practically tackling him onto the bed. Hearing him laugh beneath her, she presses her mouth to his heatedly to keep him from laughing at her, and then she's on autopilot. _

_Her hands are yanking his shirt up over his head, desperate not to break the kiss until it's too late and they have to. Tongue versus tongue and this is rougher than ever and maybe it's too soon, maybe they shouldn't be doing this. But it's a bit late now, because she's underneath him with nothing on top but her bra and he's sliding down her body to work the zipper on her jeans and suddenly she's frozen._

"_No," Hannah gasps out, and yeah, she's not ready, she knows it, and the humiliation of that is burning through her as she pushes him away and grabs her shirt._

"_Hannah, I'm sorry, it's okay, we don't have to—"_

"_No," she repeats, and he's too sweet and too understanding and she can't really look at him anymore. And Hannah runs for the room door, because looking at him, kneeling shirtless on the bed, just reminds her of what she couldn't do._

_In the hall, she hopes he doesn't come after her, and he must understand that because he doesn't. She's not sure where she's going—just, just away from the room, and God, this is so embarrassing, how is she supposed to face him again? Maybe she can only have sex when she's drunk. Maybe that's just how it'll always be. Maybe—_

Thump. _And as if this day couldn't get any more embarrassing, Hannah has just run right into some guy's chest. The guy wobbles slightly on unsteady legs and she looks up quickly to apologize. "I'm so—Logan?"_

* * *

Slow, cautious footsteps catch her attention from behind and she whirls around to find Logan, hair tousled and eyes bleary as he blinks them to rid them of their post-nap haze. "Logan! What are you doing out of bed?"

He looks like he wants to smirk at her and make a comment, but his obvious worry overrides the urge. "I heard the phone ringing. Was that your dad? Is everything—I mean, did you hear from him?"

Veronica stiffens almost involuntarily, because that concern is still there. Hannah lied to him, got him shot and nearly killed, and still, he's _still _so worried about her and her mother. Hannah doesn't deserve his concern or his worry, not after what it did to him.

She answers as impassively as she can. "That was Wallace, calling to check up on you."

Logan nods and ducks his head to avoid her gaze. "Oh." He's leaning against the wall, and Veronica feels her own worry take over again as she hurries over to him.

"Come on. You're going back to bed. You should try and sleep again, you were only out for about an hour—"

"I'm not tired," he tells her, even as he's stifling a yawn, and she rolls her eyes and continues leading him to the bed.

"Logan, the meeting's probably still going on. Try not to worry about it too much, okay? It's out of your hands now."

"I can't stop worrying, Veronica. It's hard."

"You did everything you could."

"Oh yeah, like what? Lose my shit and get myself shot? I know how much that helped."

"Hey, it got Hannah back here, didn't it?" She tries for light and fails utterly, because she's still unbelievably, unspeakably angry with that girl, and she still hopes she never sees her again.

Logan looks at her intently as he eases himself back into her bed. "Veronica, I—I know you hate Hannah for lying. I kind of do too. But I still feel sorry for her, and I still feel like I'm—I'm responsible for her somehow."

"You're not, Logan. You're not responsible for anyone but yourself. And me, if you want to get technical. And I know you feel that way, but—everything's going to be okay, I promise. My dad's taking care of it. You know he's doing everything he can."

He smiles grimly at her. "You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do, okay? I know all, Logan, remember that." She winks and rubs his arm, before sliding into the bed with him. "Come on. Nap time. Playing Nurse Veronica is tiring."

"For you and me both, I assure you," Logan says huskily, and she laughs into his cast.

_

* * *

_

_The thump of her knuckles against his dark wooden door echoes through her head, and she wonders when it got so hollow in there. Maybe the fear pushed everything out; yeah, that has to be it._

_That fear's still in there; she's showing up on Logan's doorstep, pregnant with his kid after a night he probably doesn't even think about anymore, begging him to help her keep it away from the crazed, Irish thugs that he hates. She really won't be too surprised if he just slams the door right in her face._

_He doesn't slam the door, though. He opens it and gapes at her but lets her in and Hannah kind of loves him for that. But he's looking at her, looking at her stomach, like he doesn't know why on Earth she would be there, asking him for help, of all the people she could ask._

_And that fear's still there, and Logan doesn't remember, and that makes her kind of sick, because she'd lost Ian over that night and she's been dreaming about it ever since and this baby—their baby—came from that night and he doesn't remember. He doesn't remember, so she opens her mouth and the lie tumbles out._

"_I was raped."_

* * *

Liam's got his chair balanced on the back legs, tilting it back and leaning his knees against the table. Keith shuts the door quietly behind Hannah and guides her over to where Liam's sitting, cuffed hands thumping against the table in front of him. He grins broadly at them, but mercifully doesn't say anything. Suddenly, Keith is struck by just how alike Logan and Liam are; Liam is what Logan could've been, can be still, without the right kind of anchor. He shakes his head before he can start making promises and taking oaths.

"You know, Liam, I had to sell my soul to get our lovely sheriff to agree to this meeting, so you'd better cooperate. Not having a soul makes me pretty testy."

"Well," he drawls. "We have that in common, Keith. I sold my soul a long time ago. Pretty sure it was for a pack of gum. Maybe a condom." His eyes flicker over to where Hannah's standing, trembling slightly, and he sneers at her. She stands her ground and glares at him, despite her obvious fear.

"Tell us where my mother is. Now."

Liam laughs, and Hannah folds her arms over her chest and glares harder. Keith sighs. "Sorry, no can do, princess. Say, do you know if the kid's a boy or a girl yet? Cause I'd be honored if you named him after good ole Uncle Liam."

"You're gonna have to look elsewhere for a niece or nephew, Liam," Keith tells him, pulling a piece of paper out of a folder and sliding it across the table to him. "That, my troubled friend, is a paternity test. The baby is not Ian's. You have no blood-relation to Hannah's baby at all. Now, think about this. You're already gonna serve term for shooting the Echolls kid. Do you really want to add on some heavy kidnapping charges over a kid that you have no rights to, no responsibility for? That'd be a pretty stupid move, Liam."

He looks pissed off, but still cool and collected as he rocks back on his chair again. "You're one to talk about stupid moves, Keith."

Suddenly, Hannah has made her way around the table and has kicked Liam's chair out from under him. The thug falls to the floor with a crash, and Hannah barely notices. "This baby is mine, not yours, and you have no right to keep my mother from me anymore! Tell us where she is!"

Liam gets to his feet, snarling, glaring menacingly at the young girl. "I don't have to do any of you any favors. Go to hell, bitch."

Keith sighs again and pulls out another piece of paper. "You know who I spoke to yesterday, Liam? Eli Navarro. I don't know if you remember him, but he was once the leader of the PCH Bike Club. I think you used to, uh, employ them, right, Liam? So, he gave me this interesting piece of literature here." He prods the paper with his index finger and gestures for Liam to look at it. "This, Liam, is a list of your clients. Now, maybe you're going to jail, but your business? Not so much. And me, just dropping this onto Lamb's desk? Well, that'd just be sending your business down the tubes, right? And we both know you don't want that." Keith leans back against his chair and fixes Liam with a cold, calculating stare. "It's really up to you. Your decision, buddy."

He grins brilliantly at the seething thug, because, yeah, he's won, and he knows it.

* * *

"_Why did you lie to him, Hannah?" Keith wants to know, and she's known it was coming, had been expecting it since he'd pulled up in front of Logan's house and found her on his steps. "Why didn't you just tell Logan the truth?"_

"_Because he doesn't remember," Hannah tells him, and damn, even after everything that's happened, that still hurts the most, and how pathetic is that? "He doesn't remember, and I couldn't stand the idea of him—him turning me away. It's different when you're helping to protect someone else's kid, you know? You have no real responsibility for it, no obligation. But, knowing that I had—had trapped him with this—" Hannah starts crying again, gesturing wildly at her stomach, and she wonders what kind of mother she's going to be when she already can't stand what this child has done to her life. _

"_He was willing to die for a kid that wasn't his," Keith says solemnly, and she chokes on her tears because, God, he's right. "Do you seriously believe that Logan wouldn't do everything he could to protect his own kid?"_

"_I didn't say it was rational," she retorts childishly, and Keith shakes his head and looks so, so disappointed it hurts. And she's thinking about how Logan must hate her now, and how she'll never, ever be able to face him again, and God, she's such an idiot._

"_I'm going to help you, Hannah, not because I want to, or because I think you deserve it anymore, but because I want you to stay away from Logan." His voice is heavy with emotion and he squeezes his eyes shut and Hannah thinks he's probably picturing Logan with a hole in his chest because she fucking _ran away. _"God help me, I care about that kid, and I am not going to let you ruin anything else for him." _

_Hannah sobs in response, but he's right, she doesn't deserve his sympathy or his help anymore. But she'll take it, because she's Hannah Griffith._

_And she's not built to argue._

* * *

"God, you need a better cable package," Logan tells her from where he's flipping through channels on her couch. "There is nothing but complete crap on this TV."

Veronica chuckles wryly from her end of the couch, removing her gaze from the magazine in her lap to her very bored, bed-ridden boyfriend. "Hey, you're the one who wanted to come out here. You were getting restless in the bedroom."

"Now, did you ever think you'd have to say that sentence about me?" She chuckles again and smiles over at him.

"Nope, have to say, that was pretty unexpected."

"I'm sure."

The front door opening puts an end to their boredom, and Veronica lays a hand on Logan's arm to keep him from jumping off the couch. He shoots her a look, then gives his full attention to Keith. Veronica also turns her gaze to her father, quirking her eyebrows expectantly. "Well?"

Keith hesitates a minute, before grinning broadly. "Who's your daddy?" She feels her boyfriend let out a huge, relieved breath from under her touch, and she squeezes him arm gently.

"So, Hannah's mom—she's okay and everything, right? I mean, they didn't hurt her?" He just can't keep the anxiety away, she knows it.

"She's fine, Logan. Perfectly healthy. Paramedics checked her out when we found her. Very relieved to be reunited with her daughter."

He relaxes again, and Veronica shoots out a question of her own, one that might annoy him, but one she's perfectly entitled to. "And—Hannah, she's gone, right?"

Keith nods. "She and her mom packed up and hightailed it the second she was cleared medically. I highly doubt we'll ever see any Griffith again." He's staring fixedly at Logan as he says this, who shifts under his heated gaze and ducks his head slightly.

Veronica stands and stretches, placing a quick, affectionate kiss on Logan's forehead. "Well, I, for one, am starving, so I think I might run out for some celebratory Italian. Because, after all, I'm _allowed _to go out and stretch my legs, unlike some injured invalids over here." She sticks her tongue out and grins wickedly at Logan, who lays a hand over his chest gingerly, looking wounded.

"I swear, the abuse I put up with from her—it's a wonder I'm still around."

Keith grins. "You get kudos from me for sticking it out, kid. Braver men have tried and failed."

He smirks over at Veronica. "Yup. I know."

When she's gone, the mood gets considerably heavier. Keith is still gazing at Logan heatedly, and he feels anxious and exposed under the stare. Finally, he looks up to meet the older man's eyes and braces himself. "Something else you want to tell me, Keith?"

He sighs and runs a hand over his head worriedly. "Yeah, Logan. There is."

Logan smiles grimly. "Believe me, it's easier to just rip the band-aid off. I know."

"Logan, to your knowledge, have you ever had sex with Hannah Griffith?"

The smile drops almost immediately from his face. "Excuse me?"

"It's a simple question. One that I know the answer to."

"Then why did you ask it?"

"Because I'm trying to figure out if you know it, too."

Logan looks away, and when he looks back, his face looks strained with the weight of trying to remember. "To my knowledge, no."

Keith sighs again and he feels his stomach clench with dread. Oh no. God, no. "I take it you know something I don't."

"Hannah said that—that she met you, at a Hilton in LA, back in July. She said it was just one night—you were completely wasted, and she left before you woke up the next day. Weeks later, she discovered she was pregnant, and told Ian that it was either his or yours." He hesitates, because the next part is going to hurt, Logan can tell. "Like I told you in the hospital, the paternity test Hannah had done said that Ian wasn't the father. The obvious conclusion is that it's—"

"Mine," he whispers miserably, running a hand feverishly through his hair. Keith just nods and looks at him somberly. "You know, that whole week is just—black, you know? I have no idea what I did, who I did it with—it's just a whole chunk of memory gone. I should've—should've known something like this was going to happen." He swallows hard and looks up at Keith. "And—and Hannah, she's just—she's gone, right? And she's not coming back?"

He nods again, studying Logan's face somewhat warily, and the younger man heaves a huge sigh and puts his forehead in his hand. "What am I going to do?"

Keith doesn't have an answer for him.

_

* * *

_

_Soylent Green _is on again, because they never did finish watching it that day. Now, Veronica's transfixed by the cheesy, futuristic 70's flick and Logan's the one vying for her attention on his couch. "Veronica," he whispers fiercely, nudging her side, and she shushes him savagely.

"Veronica, come on. I need to talk to you."

Wordlessly, she pauses the movie and turns an annoyed, if slightly wary, gaze on him. "Should I be worried?"

Logan gives her a small smile. "Not sure, really."

She doesn't look amused. "I don't know, Logan. We don't exactly have the best track record with 'talks'. So far, you've broken up with me, demanded my key back, and then informed me about the child you have with a runaway ex-girlfriend that you're probably never going to see again. I'm pretty sure I should be worried."

"Hey, you're still here, though," he points out meekly, then tries again. "And I totally gave the key back."

She mockingly glares at him. "More like I demanded it back." Then she softens. "And you'd better believe I'm still here. Not going anywhere, remember?" Logan smiles widely as he grips her hand.

"I remember." He hesitates for a second, then looks up at her through his lashes in a way that always makes her melt. "So, I was thinking. What if you started using that key some more?"

He watches as emotions flit over her face—confusion, comprehension, then pure, unadulterated joy. Grinning broadly, she lowers her mouth onto his own, gripping his hand with unbelievable strength, so much that he laughs slightly into her mouth. She eats up the laugh, still grinning, swallowing his happiness and pouring her own back into him, so that it's like infinity, an endless circle of the two of them, never meant to be broken, never ending, ever.

When she pulls back, they're both breathless and giddy, unable to contain their excitement as they beam at one another. "So, uh, let me see—you're, like, asking me to move in, right?" she inquires in her best dumb blonde voice, making him laugh.

"Uh-huh," he breathes. "And, like, you're saying yes, right?"

She answers into his mouth, a simple, breathy, "Yes," that gets wrapped up in the heat that is their second kiss, the heat that is Logan and Veronica.

_Soylent Green_'s going to have wait another day to be finished.


End file.
